An Asssassin's Love
by amberlovespeaceX
Summary: Set during the movie  after 'The Losers' are presumed dead and when they are living in Bolivia . Carlos 'Cougar' Alvarez becomes 'acquainted' with a bar owner who isn't who she says she is. Cougar / OC.
1. The Past, Present, and Future

**An Assassin's Love**

**Summary**: Set during the movie (after 'The Losers' are presumed dead and when they are living in Bolivia). Carlos 'Cougar' Alvarez becomes '_acquainted_' with a bar owner who isn't who she says she is.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own The Losers or anything having to do with it. I own my made-up characters though - I don't own their face / body if I use someone else to portray them, of course.  
(_Calista Castillo_ is portrayed by Adriana Lima, _Quentin Bishop _is portrayed by Michael Clarke Duncan, _Beck _is portrayed by Isaiah Mustafa, _Archer _is portrayed by Jonathan Rhys Meyers, _Theo _is portrayed by Channing Tatum, _Newt _is portrayed by Teddy Geiger, _Keyes _is portrayed by James Kyson Lee, _Star _is portrayed by Halle Berry, _Brody _is portrayed by Eric Bana, _Colby Montgomery _is portrayed by Gerard Butler)

**Genre**: Romance / Drama.

**Rating**: _Mature_ for sexual themes, language, violence, etc.

**Pairing(s)**: Cougar / OC.

**Author's Note**: So, this whole first chapter is basically background and whatnot. Let me mention this now; the Spanish used may be wrong. I had to use a translator, of course. I apologize if it is wrong, but there will be translations (of course) so that doesn't really matter. Certain things such as hola or senorita will not be defined since they are basic Spanish terms. I don't exactly know what part of Bolivia they were supposed to be in, but I did some research to see what places surrounded the rainforest / river. La Paz is south of the Madre de Dios River, so that's where I'm going to say they're at.  
**Another Note**: There will be pictures of all characters in profile, along with Star's car.

**Update on January 8****th**: So, I've corrected any and all spelling errors. Also, I've rewritten anything that didn't make sense before. I changed the pictures of the characters, Keyes and Star as well, so check it out.

* * *

**I**. The Past, Present, and Future

_**E**__motions; they were things that got in the way of the job. What I was supposed to be taught to have none of. Let's start with the beginning, shall we? _

I was born in Cabedelo, Paraíba, Brazil, and I lived there until I was seven—when my mother died of an '_accidental overdose_'. I knew better than that—she was murdered when I was at school. When I came home, orange prescription bottles addressed to _random _people were scattered all over the floor. According to the police, a nurse like herself could've gotten a hold of _anything_. I told my father _the truth_ as soon as I was shipped off to Europe to live with him in Spain. He was American, and had impregnated my mother after a mission in South America. It was usual for him to tell me about top-secret, confidential missions—who he killed, why, and how he didn't believe in it. My father was a Green Beret, specializing in long-range eliminations, and he worked _alone_. By the time I was eight, I knew how to shoot precisely, and how to disassemble / reassemble a gun in less than thirty seconds. We traveled constantly, and my father took me on his missions occasionally (_although it was forbidden_); _normally _during his missions, he preferred that I wait in whatever broken down warehouse we were staying at. On my thirteenth birthday, my father's boss gave him a new target—one he couldn't refuse with a payout so large he could've _bought _Europe. He never returned to the apartment we were staying at; he was discovered two days later—caked in dried blood, multiple gunshot wounds littered his body. I was sent back to where I always _thought _I belonged—Brazil. Apparently, I was a threat to North and South America because of the things I knew. They put me under the watch of General Raphael of the Brazilian army; that night, I shot the military official point blank in the head without any regret. There were two things my father said repeatedly—"_trust no one_" and "_if they send you to live with someone of important stature after my unexpected death—whether it be by accident, fate, or purpose—kill them because if you don't, they'll kill you._" I managed to take a bus all the way to Georgetown, Guyana, and there I stowed away on a cargo ship that took me to Jacksonville, Florida. I hitched random rides across America, eventually landing me in Los Angeles, 'the City of Angels'.

_"What's a young girl like yourself doing out here on the streets?" My eyes flickered up through my knotty, greasy hair. I needed a shower desperately, but not as much as I wanted to sleep in an actual bed. The man was tall with dark skin, a small smirk tugging on his lips. He was dressed in a business suit that looked like it came directly from an expensive Armani catalog. I remained quiet, my father's advice playing in my head over and over. "You're an orphan, child?" He asked, taking a seat beside me on the uncomfortable wooden bench._

_"Yeah." I decided that I'd keep my answers short, a maximum of three words, since this man had no intention of leaving me alone._

_"I'm Quentin Bishop." His hand extended in my direction, so I could shake it, but I only stared at it. "What's your name?" His voice was gentle, and his eyes held a certain carefreeness I couldn't match._

_"Calista Castillo." My accent laced my words thickly as I mentally thought out all my escape routes. Plan A—there was an empty street to my left, and I was sure I was faster than the man sitting next to me. Plan B—a rusty fence was behind the bench that I could climb, but I would definitely injure myself on the barbed wire lining the top. Plan C—there was more 'life' to the right, which meant I would be running into the crowds and lights of Los Angeles. Quentin's limousine was also parked by the curb, his chauffeur waiting patiently by the door. Plan D—shoot my way out. My gun was casually shoved in the waistband of my jeans, most likely visible to Quentin, but I could see a similar handgun in a holster at his hip._

_"Not anymore." The man's grin was inviting, and surprisingly warm. His teeth were a bright white against his skin, and I had just noticed just how muscular he really was. "Come with me; I'll provide you with everything you need. Food, shelter, money. We'll mold your talent as of right now to make you _the _best. You'll be able to seek revenge soon enough, child." It was against my better judgment to go with him, but that last sentence was all I truly needed to hear to make me go._

Quentin (_who actually preferred being called Bishop_) was the leader of _The Organization_, as I soon found out; it was a top-secret society that consisted of assassins. Anyone Quentin thought was 'special', such as myself, was put into the long-term training that lasted three years. The Organization was fond of amateurs, simply because they could be brainwashed and disposed of. Evidently, The Organization was behind any major assassination in the United Stated—including President Lincoln's and Kennedy's. They were the cause of _plenty _of failed assassination attempts as well, all the way from President Roosevelt's to Nixon's. Training was broke up into five divisions—hand-to-hand combat, weaponry, transportation, athleticism, and _torture_. Hand-to-hand combat is pretty self-explanatory; seemingly infinite sessions taught me tae-kwon-doe, karate, jiu jitsu—the options of what stance I could come at were endless. My 'teacher' was Beck—a thirty-five year old man from Southern Africa. Weaponry was broken up into branches—guns, knives, explosives, improvised, martial arts, melee, and artillery. Guns had a wide range of things to learn to use—pistols, submachine guns, shotguns, assault rifles, sniper rifles, machine guns, and grenade launchers. Archer had been my 'teacher' when it came to guns; he said that I was the best he had ever seen, and I was _really _skilled when it came to shooting at a distance.

_"What's the lesson for the day?" I asked as I flipped my hair over my shoulder. My fourteenth birthday would be here soon, and a few days after that would mark my 'one year' anniversary at The Organization (even though I'm in training). _

_"Sniper." Archer was of Irish lineage with a strong accent, and he was twenty-six years old. He got into the 'business' around the same time as I did after a similar occurrence happened to him. He handed me a 7.62x51mm M40A3, the Marine Corps standard issue. It was the heaviest gun he ever made me deal with—sixteen and a half pounds. "Shoot targets while running." His orders weren't to be taken lightly, so I did as I was told. I sprinted through the obstacle course, my gun raised while shooting each piece of paper that strategically popped up in the forehead. At the end, I jogged back over to Archer with a smirk; I could tell he was impressed by the expression on his face. "Stand at the end of the room." His tone was soft as he nodded to the door that would take me back into our facility. I nodded and followed his demand, waiting for further instruction. "Shoot this target through every pressure point." He yelled from the other side of the room (which was very far away, might I add). I looked through the scope and under a minute, I had shot every major pressure point. "Well, I'll be damned. You're the best shooter I've ever trained." He smiled before guiding me back inside for a celebratory drink._

Knives were quite easy as well; throwing and anticipating my opponent's move were the most useful things taught. Theo had been my teacher, and our relationship changed forever one night.

_"Theo. It's two in the morning; can I please go to bed?" I groaned; I normally never complained, but lessons ended at midnight, and lessons began as early as six in the morning; which meant I would have less than four hours to sleep tonight if Theo would let me go to bed already. My hair was pulled into a messy bun on the top of my head, and I had a white bandana wrapped around my forehead. I was wearing a pair of black spandex shorts and a white tank-top while Theo had on nothing but red gym shorts. _

_"Why, you hate spending time with me?" Theo grinned as he began to dribble a basketball between his legs. Yes, my lesson for the past hour and a half had been _basketball_. Bullshit, I know. _

_"No, I'm tired." I mumbled as I rubbed my eyes sleepily. I nearly collapsed from sleep deprivation, but Theo caught me. I hadn't gotten a good night's sleep for a year; the average hours of sleep per week a person is supposed to get is fifty-six, I only get forty-two—if that._

_"One more game, please." Theo begged; in reality, he didn't have to do much. I would cave, because I wouldn't want him to be any harder on me than he already is. I nodded, and he smiled brightly before adding, "Let's up the ante. If you win, you get my entire collection of butterfly knives." I was _definitely _listening; he had some of the most beautiful knives in the world (no matter how small they were)._

_"What happens if I lose?" I cocked an eyebrow suspiciously as he passed the basketball to me._

_"I get a good night kiss." He stated shortly as I 'checked' the ball to him. It was a bad idea; he was twenty-four, a decade older than me._

_"Throw in your collection of bowie knives." I stated, and he nodded so I agreed with two words, "It's on." After a half hour of a game, I lost. He offered to walk me back to my room which I knew would only end up one way, but I couldn't say no. It took about ten minutes to reach my room, where an innocent good night kiss led to a heated make out session. He opened my door with my hand while his other was entangled in my hair. Once inside the room, he kicked the door shut with his foot and guided me to my bed. He was surprisingly gentle, and from that day forward, we had a 'secret' relationship._

Explosives had always been one of my favorite lessons because let's face it—_everybody loves to blow up shit_. Newt had been my 'teacher', and he was only twenty-one. Improvised consisted of baseball bats, boards, makeshift weapons, and anything along those lines; yet again, I didn't find it very difficult. Martial arts was mostly objects that I thought should've been under improvised or melee (_knives would have been under melee or martial arts, but since it was such a large range of blades, it got its own category_), so I didn't have any trouble with any of them. For all three branches I had _one _teacher, Keyes. Transportation had three branches—land, air, and sea. They all held importance, but I was particularly gifted with vehicles. Teachings consisted of all sorts of maneuvers to make one an outstanding driver, pilot, and captain. Star had been my teacher (_who I developed a strong bond with_), and she was the only _female_ teacher in the institute. Athleticism's sessions were supposed to help me build up my stamina, so I could run for hours at a time without getting winded; Brody was my teacher. The last division and by far my least favorite, _torture_. Recruits had to endure being beaten, shot, stabbed (_no fatal wounds, of course_)—basically anything that could cause bodily harm so one could learn to resist, ignore, and tolerate pain; The Executioner was in charge of these sessions. Over three years of ruthless training, I had become the ultimate killing machine. Bishop believed that I'd be the greatest assassin to go down in The Organization's history, especially after my first hit. I had one weakness, one flaw—I _wasn't _heartless.

_"What did he do wrong?" I asked, watching the man pacing the length of his living room in his classy penthouse through the scope of my gun. I was stationed two buildings north, my sniper rifle perched on the edge of the building. He was talking into a cellphone, obviously agitated; I was sixteen now, and my waist length hair was pulled back in a sleek ponytail—my 'signature' accessory (a black bandana) was tied around my forehead. This would be my first assassination, and I could choose how to do it thanks to the client. Long-range was my choice for two reasons; my father would've taken out a target this way, and I wasn't sure if I would be able to handle an emotional plea from my target to spare their life._

_"He's a bad man, C352C. Now is not the time for questions. Get the job done." I expected Bishop to be angrier, but he wasn't; he had become a father figure over the last few years, and I wouldn't go against his orders. I inhaled a deep breath, focusing the scope on the man; I determined the wind speed, and distance in a matter of seconds. I moved the sniper rifle slightly to the right as the man stopped walking. He was now facing the window, screaming into the phone. _Too easy_, I thought as I pushed any feelings of doubt to the back of my mind._

_"Forgive me, Father, for I am about to sin." I whispered before firing off a single, muffled shot due to the silencer. The bullet landed directly in between the man's eyes, and he fell to the floor lifelessly. I slung my rifle onto my shoulder by its strap as Bishop clapped with a proud smile._

_"Amazing." He wrapped his arm around my shoulders carefully, making sure not to get in the way of my weapon._

I later found out that the man was named Felix Withers, and he was thirty-eight years old. He had a six-year-old son with his girlfriend, and a fourteen-year-old daughter from an ex-wife. Looking back on it, I knew why I was hired to kill him. There are only three reasons an assassin is hired to kill someone—the target knows too much, rivalry, and self-gain. After an assassin's first successful kill in The Organization, they were given the '_initiation mark_'.

_"Come with me, C352C." Bishop was excited—about what? I have no idea. I had to admit though, I hated my 'name'. When an assassin received a name, it normally consisted of random numbers and letters, but I was 'special'—or so Bishop often told me. The C stood for Calista, my birth name, the 3 stood for the third letter of the alphabet - C - which was the first letter of one of my middle names'—Charmene, the 5 stood for the fifth letter in the alphabet - E - which was the letter of another one of my middle names'—Eloisa, the 2 stood for the second letter in the alphabet - B - which was the first letter of my last middle name—Blanca, and the C stood for my surname, Castillo. I finally noticed we were heading in the direction of the basement, where the torture chambers are located._

_"Why are we going down there?" I asked casually. If I was weak, I would've involuntarily shook with fear—but I wasn't, so I was calm. Over the process of being brutally tormented on so many occasions, fear had become a word that didn't exist in my vocabulary anymore. The same goes with pain._

_"Just wait." Bishop shot me a reassuring smile over his shoulder before stepping out into the open floor plan. He kindly demanded that I take my shirt off and stand against the wall—my back facing him and the one who was only known as 'The Executioner'. I did as I was told, gripping the moldy tile wall as I waited. Something extremely hot pressed deeply into the small of my back, causing indescribable pain to rip through me. I bared it, just like I had been taught. I swallowed the lump in my throat, and counted back from one hundred as I anticipated its end. The breeze of air on the burned area brought me great relief, and I found that I had been holding my breath. I exhaled and turned around, confusion contorted my face. The Executioner was holding a hot iron in his hands, though it had noticeably cooled down since it had been burning my back. The end was in the shape of a circle with a thick cross on the inside. "Welcome to The Organization, _officially_." Bishop's grin was more than sincere, and I couldn't help but smile back._

The next year flew by; it was a requirement to train once a week with each teacher (_to make sure one didn't get 'rusty'_)—torture was only used for punishment, thankfully. There was a set of rules The Organization set up that one _had _to follow; the number one rule—which is the most important—was to never have _attachments_. I was determined to live by the rules, unlike somebody I knew.

_I sighed contently as I slid a hand under my head. Tonight had been incredible, and I was lying beside Theo in his bed. Our 'thing' was strictly good sex, or so I thought. "I love you." When those words left Theo's lips, I had jolted upright so quick and whipped my head around that I was surprised I didn't get whiplash. My eyes widened, and my mouth fell open in surprise. The last time I heard those words was four years ago, minutes before my father left me _forever_. I climbed out of his bed and began to slip on the clothes I had been wearing before I came for our nightly session. "What's wrong?" He asked with his eyebrows scrunched up in puzzlement. I didn't respond as I pulled my hair out of my shirt, but I didn't really have a choice after Theo leapt out of bed and grabbed my wrist. I was seventeen, and I sure as _**hell**_ did not love Theo._

_"We agreed going into this that it was nothing but sex." I stated coldly, ripping my wrist from his grasp. He managed to stop me before I reached the door, a sullen look on his face._

_"You can't tell me that after three years, you feel _nothing _towards me." He whispered harshly, and I could see tears pricking his eyes. _Pathetic,_ I thought with an eye roll._

_"Yes I can, and I just did." I shoved him out of my way before storming out of his bedroom._

I hadn't seen him for days after that major incident; a meeting was held a little over a month after he vanished.

_"Assassins, we have gathered here today for one reason." Bishop's voice boomed in the large room; he was unusually angry, and all my 'teachers' were on edge. Only those who had been inducted into The Organization were here, so only a dozen other people around my age were in the room. "One of our own has gone rogue." He didn't need to say much more than that—I already knew who it was, and I had a feeling I knew why. Only a second later, Theo's image popped up onto the briefing room's wall. They had gone old school with the presentation, using a projector to display pictures on the white cement. I had zoned out as I sat there, my head in my hands. _What have I done? _I questioned myself mentally with a barely visible shake of my head._

Ever since Theo was announced dead to _us_, every member of The Organization had to watch their back. There was no telling when somebody would be ambushed; it only happened once, to a new kid on his third hit. 8CF2D, whose real name was Zeke Carter. The year passed without any more killings, and once my eighteenth birthday arrived, I was surprised that The Organization and its members celebrated it.

_"God damn it. A fucking hit on my birthday." I growled lowly as I stomped down the sidewalk that led to the front door of what appeared to be a run-down warehouse. In actuality, it was The Organization's headquarters; it was meant to look horrific on the outside with barred up windows that a person couldn't see through. On the inside, it was shockingly beautiful with hardwood floors, chandeliers, and antique rugs. "Of course you have a target, C352C. Why wouldn't you?" I mocked Bishop's tone that I heard over my secure cellphone only fifteen minutes earlier. Aloof and angry—which was completely out of his element. I lived at The Organization, but the past few days were spent at a hotel—reconnaissance. My latest target had been eight buildings over, but with my scope adjusted, I could see him through the clear windows best during nighttime (oddly). I took him out last night, since he was alone in his office. I had spent my final night at the hotel, and expected to come home to a cake prepared by Star—she was quite the cook. But no, I get called in for another fucking hit. Duty calls when duty calls, I guess. I hit the door in three different spots, making it click open. As soon as I walked in, the dark foyer was flooded with light and cheers of 'Happy Birthday'. All of my previous teachers (excluding Theo) were here along with Bishop, a few elite assassins in their old age, and the assassins around my age. After several meet-and-greets, I began to open up poorly wrapped presents. I received an array of weapons, but the one I'll never forget was a AMP Technical Services DSR-1 sniper rifle imported from Germany (gifted to me from Archer)._

A few months after I turned twenty, Bishop found the men responsible for my father's death. He didn't know who hired them, but he knew who pulled the trigger.

_"Public place, how wonderful." I smiled as I looked up at a two-story inn; it was where the four men who shot my father were staying at. I was currently dressed in my usual attire; I wore tight, black, skinny jeans with a form-fitting, sleeveless, black top. My combat boots were laced up and stopped short of my knee. Recently, I had chopped my hair off to mirror a combination of Twiggy (a fashion icon from the 60's) and Mia Farrow (in Rosemary's Baby) with my own added flavor - 'edgy' swept bangs that hung in my eyes. I wore a knee-length, twill trench coat to hide the holsters on my hips and sheaths strapped around my thighs (I doubted I would use the knives, but it's always best to come prepared). I slid on a pair of black Ray Ban sunglasses, although it was nighttime, and began to walk nonchalantly through the doors. I sauntered up to a desk where a young receptionist was waiting, snapping gum in between her teeth incessantly while twirling a lock of her bleached blonde hair around her finger; she was reading a magazine in her lap—Cosmopolitan. "I'm here to see Michael Smith." My smirk widened when it looked like her eyes were going to pop out. I was used to people fearing me, so the frightened look on her face didn't bother me._

_"Uh, are you a relative of some sort?" She squeaked, searching through the computer's database of what room number he was in. I knew that all four men were in the same room; they weren't the kind to separate, which only made it easier for me._

_"Maybe." I stated as I placed my black leather glove covered hands on the countertop._

_"Second floor, room four, ma'am." She sounded like a mouse that was getting mauled by a cat._

_"Thanks." I slid a crisp one hundred dollar bill her way, which seemed to ease her nerves as she inspected it. I walked towards the stairway to my right, and it barely took a minute to reach the second floor. I untied the belt holding my trench coat together before letting it pool to the floor behind me. I wore a black, high tech watch on my left wrist, and set the time to give me exactly five minutes and fourteen seconds; that's all the time I would have. I withdrew my Beretta M9 pistols from their holsters as I walked down the hallway; I stopped when I saw a golden 4 hanging on a door and knocked. The second it opened, I fired off a shot without hesitation, killing Randy Banks—one of the men involved—in the center of his forehead. The three other men—Michael Smith, Lou Frederick, and Eunice Haynes—were huddled around a table playing poker, but were now whipping out their guns as fast as they could manage. I shot Lou and Eunice at the same time with speed none of them could match; I was going to save Michael for last, and make sure his was the most painful. One bullet through his hand rendered him incapable of holding his gun._

_"Bitch!" He shrieked, cradling his hand to his stomach. "Why the fuck are you doing this?" He yelled; he was a lame excuse of a human being if he was whining with only a gunshot to the hand._

_"Do you remember a man named Mattie Castillo?" I asked through clenched teeth; my gun aimed at his head. My father's name had been Matthew; 'Mattie' was his nickname ever since he was a kid._

_"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Hearing this, I shot him in the knee. It looked like he was struggling to keep consciousness, so I figured I better hurry this along._

_"Who hired you?" I asked as I raised my eyebrows in question._

_"A guy gave us half a million each if we made sure to kill him. His name was Max—that's all I know!" He let out a blood curdling scream when I shot him where the sun don't shine._

_"Well, I hope you know now that you fucked with the wrong family. See you in hell, dick." I snarled before shooting him in the forehead. I put my guns back in their rightful place as I heard police sirens in the distance._

Something Bishop failed to mention was that the four shooters were in the Scottish mob; they were just as dangerous as Russians, but they made sure to keep their things silent and on the down low. I told Bishop about Max, but he didn't give me anything useful. As the years passed, I killed more people than at least one hundred soldiers combined did within their lifetime. I lost count sometime after the death toll when it reached the triple digits (_trust me, it's way beyond that_). I had more riches than anyone ever listed in Forbes, and I traveled a lot due to my profession, but my home was in Los Angeles. Permanently, or so I hoped. I considered my life the closest thing to perfect for somebody like _me_. Excluding the fact that I wasn't supposed to have any outer attachments and no one was ever allowed to know my real name. I was twenty-three when I met Colby Montgomery, _unfortunately._

_"What the fuck is the difference between one perfect and whole milk?" I mumbled under my breath as I stared at the two cartons I was holding my hands. I shrugged apathetically, putting the whole milk in my cart while I placed the one percent back in the grocery store's refrigerator. I pushed my car into a nearby aisle, stopping when I spotted my favorite breakfast food. "Cereal." I smiled softly as my eyes scanned over all the different kinds._

_"Personally, I'd go with Cheerio's—they're good for your cholesterol." A smooth voice with an accent spoke from behind me; I turned around with a lopsided grin. I give props to Star who taught me basic social skills (under Bishop's orders when I was fourteen). "Colby Montgomery." His hand extended in my direction when he smiled. He was gorgeous—he was taller than me by an inch or two (I'm freakishly tall at five nine) with lightly tanned skin, dark hair, and blue eyes._

_"Elena Palmer." I shook his hand, not expecting our conversation to go anywhere. I had at least ten different aliases I made up during my free time—Elena Palmer was my favorite. She graduated from high school in Talca, Chile; she originally planned on going to college in Michigan, but dropped out so she could live in California with the hopes of pursuing her dreams of becoming an actress. My favorite thing had to be that she was _normal_, something I truly never had the chance of being._

_"Beautiful name." He complimented, and I simply nodded as I felt my phone begin to vibrate wildly in my brown leather jacket's pocket. My street clothes had to be more discreet than wearing all black, leather, and spandex - or so Bishop told me, so over time I had an ample collection of clothes of all colors, except for neon's or pastel's. I held up a finger to Colby as if to indicate I would need a second while answering it._

_"Hello?" I normally would've said my codename as soon as I answered, since this was a phone The Organization issued, and Bishop was the only one with the number. _

_"C352C, you're in the presence of another?" Bishop asked calmly on the other line as I brushed my hair behind my ear. I varied the styles over the past four years and it had now grown out to my collarbone; the tips of my hair were razored and layers were scattered throughout my hair. I kept the bangs, because they framed my face nicely._

_"Yes." I responded as I examined my nails, trying to appear bored to Colby._

_"I've just received word from a trusting source that there is a bounty on your head, reaching more than seven digits. It all originates from the four men you assassinated. A man just arrived from Glasgow a few days ago. Is the man you're looking at Scottish?" Bishop's tone had a hint of panic in it, which was highly unusual; he knew I could take care of myself. I measured up the man now leaning against the shelf behind him casually before deciding._

_"Definitely." I replied, pinching the bridge of my nose. I wouldn't want to fight him in a public place, I'd rather lure him elsewhere to do that._

_"He's a member of a secret society, similar to ours, but they work under the direct orders of the Scottish mob, and they don't have __**you**__. Colby Montgomery is the only person that could even come close. They have been monitoring you ever since your mother's death, and The Organization is sure that when Theo flipped, he waited for something to hold against you. Get the hell out of there, C. Meet me at our secondary rendezvous when you can." Bishop rushed through his miniature speech, and I couldn't suppress the smile that made its way onto my lips._

_"Sure thing." I hung up the phone, sliding it back into my pocket before taking a step towards Colby. I saw his body tense, and I was now close enough that I could feel his rapid heartbeat against my chest. "It was nice meeting you and all, but I really must go. Duty calls." I leaned in close enough to convince him I was going in for a kiss and as soon as his eyes shut, my forehead connected with his nose in a powerful head butt. "Moron." I chuckled as I took off the same way I came down the aisle, darting into the storage room where employees were allowed only. _Like that would stop me, _I mentally scoffed as I saw the steps that led to the door with 'Roof Entrance' printed in bold letters. Swiftly, I made my way up the steps, flung open the door, and started to run as fast as I could. Buildings lined one another around here, so I ran across them, jumping when there were minor gaps. I could hear Colby screaming in frustration behind me; there were two thoughts plaguing my mind. _Why hadn't they come for me earlier and why hasn't this imbecile tried to shoot me already? _A large gap was coming up ahead, and I could only hope that Colby couldn't jump it. I just barely made it and stumbled as I landed. I looked up to see that Colby had stopped, but I took off before he could say anything._

After nearly escaping a run-in with the Scottish mob, I was ordered a week off work. Once I returned to working, I found out that Colby had my number when I wasn't in the most comfortable position.

_"Hello?" Most assassins weren't idiotic enough to attempt to balance their phone in between their shoulder and ear while reloading any weapon; mine being a Desert Eagle I plucked from a guard's waistband earlier, along with two magazines filled with nine bullets each._

_"Good evening, Elena, or should I call you by your birth name, Calista?" A suave Scottish accent spoke on the other line, making me roll my eyes. "It was such a honor to see you. I always thought you were just a legend." Hearing this, I rolled my eyes, and rounded the corner, shooting each guard that was standing in front of the metal door in the forehead. "I must've caught you at a bad time, love." He laughed lightly, and yet again, I rolled my eyes. _

_"Not at all. I always take calls when I'm on a mission." I barked sarcastically as I began to unlatch the door. Larry Summers would be on the other side of this, most likely quivering while holding an old school revolver. He was fifty-six, and after I took him out, I was supposed to retrieve his hard drive. Then my mission would be completed. I hung up the phone and slid it back into its rightful spot before entering the room stealthily. Larry was underneath his desk, shaking with fear - just as I suspected._

Bishop knew Colby was taunting me, and it was only a matter of time before he tried to kill me again. My teachers had become more overprotective, and I figured out they had been watching over me during assassinations. Although it was appreciated, I preferred to be alone.

_"You can go ahead and come out now." I called out as soon as I jumped off the fire escape's last step; I had been on the rooftop a few moments ago, taking out a woman known only as Lady. A green 1970 Plymouth Barracuda came to a screeching halt at the alleyway's exit. Star was in the driver's seat, a smile on her lips. Her hair was spiked as usual, and she wore a black leather vest (a gift I gave her a year ago) over a red, lacy shirt. I heard footsteps behind me and looked over my shoulder to see Beck holding a walkie-talkie. Without another word, Beck crammed himself into the backseat while I rode in the passenger seat. "I can handle myself, y'know." I spoke after a moment of silence. My twenty-fifth birthday was in a few months; I wasn't still the kid that had come into The Organization nearly twelve years ago. Suddenly, bullets rained through the roof of Star's prized possession. One went directly through Beck's hand through the seat, one barely wounded Star's arm, and three grazed my shoulder. _

_"Motherfucker ruined my car." Star growled through clenched teeth as she spun the car's wheel while withdrawing a Hi-Point .45 ACP from the holster on her hip. As she changed gears to reverse, her foot slammed onto the gas, and she began to drive backwards while she shot through the windshield, successfully killing the driver of a black 2002 Ford Explorer. I managed to bring my sniper rifle up and shoot the man with the gun in the passenger seat. The windshield ended up completely shattering, throwing glass back on the both of us. I was momentarily blinded, but I was able to make out the two faces in the backseat who were smirking. Theo and Colby._

It was clear that I was wanted dead, and always would be. After my twenty-fifth birthday, I knew what was the right course of action.

_"Bishop, I've put twelve years into The Organization, and nine of those years were spent completing hits." I sighed, looking over at the aging man seated next to me on the bench. It was similar to how we met the first time, but there were several differences. Age, for example. I was now an adult, and he would be a senior citizen in ten years. "I won't stick around if it'll cost any members of The Organization their life. This is me resigning." I glanced at him from the corner of my eye to observe his reaction. He didn't look angry, but he didn't look happy._

_"I understand, Calista." He smiled sincerely as he pulled me into a brief side-hug. "I suggest you leave the States. I'll find a way to contact you if we ever find Max." He mumbled, and I nodded before we parted ways._

I left the States, and moved to Rio Branco in Western Brazil. It wasn't where I was born, but I wasn't about to take the risk of someone possibly finding out my true identity. I pretended to be 'Elena Palmer', but I didn't seek employment. I lived in a house secluded in the woods that an architect (_Antonio_) built—he had a major crush on me. He asked me out at least a dozen times before I finally agreed. He had a seven-year-old daughter, Gabriella, but I didn't let that get in the way of our blossoming relationship. After knowing each other for a eleven months, and dating for four (_it took seven months to build the house_), he moved in with his daughter. Everything was going smoothly, until I marked the calendar as one year of retirement from The Organization. That's when tragedy struck.

_A morning run. It always helped to calm me down. I was stressed, to say the least. I was debating on whether or not I should tell Antonio Cortez about the real me—Calista Castillo. He knew 'Elena Palmer', who did have a lot in common with me, but only because I made it that way. Tony was understanding, but this was _huge_. False identity would be enough to make someone leave another, especially if they had a previous profession like mine. I took a deep breath, and decided that the truth would be best. Through the dense trees, I could make out the shape of our house. I smiled lightly at the simple thought of Tony cooking Gabriella and I breakfast. On the side of the house, I saw a black box with a flashing red light. It took me a moment to register what was going on, but once I did, I pushed myself to go faster. I didn't make it; the explosion was enough to knock me off my feet. Debris landed beside me, and smoke hung in the air. I coughed as I stood up and examined the wreckage. I took off running and stopped at the border of Bolivia where I had stashed millions of dollars (possibly billions) and all my weapons from my former life._

The Scottish mob and Theo thought that I was dead, so it was easier for me to function without paranoia after that. There was a funeral for me back in Brazil, where I was raised.

_Looking through the scope, I shifted it to all the different faces. Star was in tears—which is something very rare considering crying is a weakness—and Beck had a caring arm over her shoulder. They had only made a few changes in appearance over the past year; Beck had a trimmed goatee while Star's hair was streaked with a deep maroon. Bishop had his head down, as did the rest of my past teachers—Brody, Archer, Newt, and Keyes. There was a Portuguese priest saying a few words. It was rather nice if I do say so myself; I was laying on my stomach on a nearby grassy knoll that should've been far enough for no one to notice me. Bishop glanced up at the end of the funeral, and it was almost as if he knew I was there because a smirk tugged on his lips._

I took the name Gabriella Cortez, and I live in La Paz, Bolivia. It's a poor place, but I'm not moving again. I opened up a bar named Cortez's Corner, and it's been one year since I was presumed dead. I never thought I'd get my revenge against Max, the Scottish mob, or Theo…until I met _them_.

* * *

**There was the first chapter (: Super long, I hope you guys enjoyed it. The next chapter will introduce The Losers! Review, please.**


	2. Cortez's Corner

**An Assassin's Love**

**Summary**: Set during the movie (after 'The Losers' are presumed dead and when they are living in Bolivia). Carlos 'Cougar' Alvarez becomes '_acquainted_' with a bar owner who isn't who she says she is.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own The Losers or anything having to do with it. I own my made-up characters though - I don't own their face / body if I use someone else to portray them, of course.  
(_Calista Castillo_ is portrayed by Adriana Lima, _Salma Ruiz _is portrayed by Constance Marie, _Ivan Ruiz _is portrayed by Luis Armand Garcia, _Diego Romero _is portrayed by Milan Baros, _Leala Sanchez _is portrayed by Masiela Lusha)

**Author's Note**: So, that first chapter was a long one (: I know the title should be ex-assassin's, but it doesn't have the same ring to it. Also, I know Adriana Lima doesn't have scars in the pictures—but I'm making it work! Haha.  
**Special Note**: I'd like to thank _**Alexandria0209**_ and _**Jensen's Petunia **_for the reviews; they were that extra little boost I needed to get this chapter out as soon as possible (:

**Updated on January 8****th**: All spelling errors corrected, and I've revised a few things.

* * *

**II**. Cortez's Corner

_**S**_weat collected on my forehead, and I wiped it away with the back of my hand. A record-breaking heat wave had begun a few weeks ago, and with summer rapidly approaching, it could only get worse. My eyes roamed the exterior of the doll factory, _Salma's Shop_—the letters hung dangerously low above the large doorway. There was a rumor that five foreigners were here—why? No one had any idea. They had arrived about a week ago, and I had seen one of them at my bar—black suit with a white, half-buttoned shirt, five o' clock shadow, tall, haunted eyes, late thirties. According to the 'gossip' in my bar, two of them worked at my good friend's factory. I looked down at my attire—a translucent, white, button-down shirt over a sky blue, crew neck shirt with a pair of khaki-colored jeans that flared a little at the bottom. I wore tan sandals, and my long hair was pulled up into a messy ponytail. The sleeves to my over shirt were rolled up to my elbows, exposing the marred flesh of my forearms. Six light scars of different shapes and sizes from training with _Theo _all those years ago (_two were on my right arm, four were on my left_), one minor scar near my right wrist—a burn from The Executioner, and a small bullet wound that barely missed the veins in my right arm from Archer (_when I first began training, I didn't dodge a bullet fast enough_). I inhaled a deep breath as I unrolled my sleeves before making my way inside; there wasn't much of a temperature difference—basically every man working at the doll factory had his shirt off…except one. He was wearing a shirt that stood out against his pasty, white skin, and he was talking animatedly to a _very _good looking Spaniard next to him. _**Those **__are the outsiders. _I thought knowingly with a smirk as I walked to the back where Salma's office was located. I could hear an array of colorful curse words—in Spanish—flying out of her mouth as I neared, but when I came into her sight, she stopped. "Qué estás haciendo aquí, Gaby?" (_What are you doing here, Gaby?_) Salma Ruiz asked with a bright smile as she hung the phone up without saying goodbye.

"I didn't teach you English so you could speak Spanish all the time." I snickered, and she playfully slapped my arm. She was the one of the few people I had met that didn't judge someone by their appearance—take me for example. I met her my first day in Bolivia—sweaty and covered in scars.

_I spent hours upon hours running from Rio Branco; I would've made Brody proud, because I felt like I had only run a mile. They could never teach one to sweat less in The Organization, unfortunately, and sweat was practically pouring off my skin. I had stashed my money and weapons in a safe, nearby location while I tried to figure out where I would sleep. "Cariño, ¿estás bien?" (_Honey, are you okay?_) A feminine voice asked, and I turned my attention to a short woman who was holding a brown bag of groceries. I didn't know what to say, but nevertheless, she ushered me back to her house._

She befriended me quickly and took me 'under her wing'. With her help, the locals warmed up to me, and in return, I taught her English. This was as close to normal as I was ever going to get—a bar owner who bartends in Bolivia under the name of Gabriella Cortez. "Do you mind picking Ivan up from school?" There was a small hint of desperation in her tone, and I figured that she had some issues with Ivan's father to work out (_which explained her swearing on the phone_). I had anonymously hired contractors (_paying them half beforehand and the rest after_) to build a school in the district; of course, the locals didn't have any proof that I did it, but they were sure that I did. Before the school was built, people in the community wouldn't come within five feet of me—my scars and attitude terrified them. Now, most people come to my bar, but know better than to mess with me. Salma clicked her tongue as she waited for a response, and I simply nodded before she pulled me into a tight squeeze. "Thank you." She whispered as she released me.

"Who are they?" I nodded in the direction of the strangers as I crossed my arms underneath my chest.

"That one—" She paused and pointed at the light-skinned man who still hadn't shut up. "Introduced himself as Jensen, and he said the other one is Cougar." She shrugged with a smile. _Ex-military—explains the muscles and 'nicknames'_. I thought immediately as I glanced at their backs (_they were faced the opposite way, but they'd both steal a look over their shoulder every so often_).

"I'm going to invite them to the bar for a drink. Do you want me to bring Ivan back to the bar too?" I questioned as I brushed a few loose tendrils of hair behind my ear. Nobody under eighteen was allowed in my bar (_since that was the legal drinking age here_), but I made an exception for Ivan Ruiz. He was eleven, and only had his mom to take care of him if you didn't count me (_and his cousin, Leala_).

"That'll be fine." Her smile was a mixture of appreciation and gratefulness, and I enveloped her in a hug before making my way over to the two strangers' work station. I leaned against it, looking back and forth at the two. Jensen had stopped talking now, and was ogling my chest.

"What brings you two to Bolivia?" I asked politely, though my jaw was set. Military men weren't to be trusted, whether it was their current or previous profession. When I had been an assassin, I had killed two hundred and nineteen men in the military. If you included General Raphael _before _I became an assassin, it would equal two hundred and twenty.

"Vacation." Jensen replied after a moment of silence, a cheesy grin on his face.

"Bolivia has a sixty percent rate of poverty, you don't speak the country's language, it's typically ninety degrees every day or higher, and you're working in a doll factory. If you were _really _on vacation, you would've chosen somewhere nicer, and you wouldn't be employed." I spoke calmly, a small smirk on my lips. My best guess was that they were burned—there wasn't much more of an explanation than that. Jensen was stunned, and although Cougar was surprised, he kept his cool demeanor. "I own a bar right around the corner. Ask Salma where it's at. Drinks are on the house." I winked before walking away. As soon as I was outside, I rolled the sleeves of shirt back up. There were five _ex_-military men here, which meant they each had a certain job; there would be a leader, driver, techie, long-range elimination, and demolition. _Special Forces just like my dad. _I thought before I shook the thoughts off. The school was about a mile west, and then I'd have to walk all the way back to the bar which was to my right. I hummed a random tune as I walked, and found myself at Ivan's school no time. I spotted him in the middle of three, _very large_ seniors; I leapt over the fence with ease and sauntered over, prepared to fight for Ivan. "¿Hay algún problema?" (_Is there a problem?_) I called out; as soon as the three boys moved slightly, I saw that Ivan had a bloody nose.

"Oye, nena." (_Hey, baby._) One of the eighteen-year-olds spoke as he walked by me; he slapped my ass, which was a wrong move on his part. I swung my leg out and caught him by the ankles, sending him to the ground (_the way his head rebounded off the black top with a resonating crack nearly made me wince_). I jumped up at the same time his friend lunged at me, and successfully landed a kick to his chest that knocked the wind out of him. He tumbled to the ground just as the third boy came at me. I delivered a hard roundhouse kick to his face, dislocating his jaw in the process.

"No toque Ivan de nuevo, o te prometo que te encontrará y hacer daño de maneras que no podía imaginar." (_Do not touch Ivan again, or I promise I will find you and hurt you in ways you could not imagine._) I barked at the 'leader' of the pack before tearing a small portion of my shirt off. I handed it to Ivan after I balled it up so he could hold it underneath his nose; then I picked him up effortlessly and carried him on my hip.

"Do you think you could teach me moves like that?" Ivan's voice had changed due to him holding my shirt to his nose; I had taught English to Ivan at the same time as Salma. I chuckled and nodded as he laid his head on my shoulder. "Where'd you learn moves like that anyway?" He asked curiously.

"Karate lessons when I was a kid." I responded without missing a beat; 'Gabriella Cortez' was a well thought out alias (_it wasn't just an alias though, it was in the memory of little Gaby Cortez, Tony's daughter_). She was born in Northern Brazil, she came from a wealthy family who died in a car accident when she was nineteen, and she loved spicy food. Every detail about the made-up identity was engrained in my mind, but I'd always be Calista Castillo—assassin…or _ex_-assassin. It didn't take long to reach the bar, and I noticed that everybody had already flocked to it (_probably when it opened at ten this morning_). Diego Romero and Leala Sanchez—the two bartenders employed here—were behind the bar, supplying customers with drinks. Diego's twenty, and he's hardworking. He attends a nearby University on a scholarship (_which is very rare around here_), and he is an all-around great guy. Leala is a rebellious nineteen-year-old who is Salma's niece (_she lives with Salma_). Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jensen, Cougar, and the three others from their group at a table. Salma spotted me, and the bloodied scrap of shirt that Ivan was holding underneath his nose.

"What happened?" Salma asked with widened eyes as she rushed over.

"Idiotic teenagers." I grunted as I sat him on his feet. He began to imitate me fighting with sound effects, and I laughed loudly as I made my way to the back room. I peeled off my white-button down and undershirt before rummaging through my locker. I always kept spare clothes here in case I ever needed them; the air conditioner was blasting, so I put on a long-sleeve, white, fleece shirt and then headed back into the bar. I greeted Leala and Diego with a nod as I began to pour drinks; Leala wasn't frightened by me like Diego, who had begun working here about a month ago (_Leala worked here ever since I opened the bar two months after being here_). _This is going to be one hell of a night. _I thought as I looked up and locked eyes with Cougar.

* * *

**Probably not how one would expect her to act? But the fact is she always wanted to be normal, and although she wants revenge, she can't get it at the moment so she's making her life as good as possible while she can. Hope the fans enjoyed it. Another chapter will be coming out soon (: Check my profile to see pictures of Salma, Ivan, Diego, and Leala; The Losers will be **_**better **_**introduced in the next chapter. This was a minor introduction. Anyways, review (:**


	3. Lying

**An Assassin's Love**

**Summary**: Set during the movie (after 'The Losers' are presumed dead and when they are living in Bolivia). Carlos 'Cougar' Alvarez becomes '_acquainted_' with a bar owner who isn't who she says she is.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own The Losers or anything having to do with it. I own my made-up characters though - I don't own their face / body if I use someone else to portray them, of course.  
(_Calista Castillo_ is portrayed by Adriana Lima, _Salma Ruiz _is portrayed by Constance Marie, _Ivan Ruiz _is portrayed by Luis Armand Garcia, _Diego Romero _is portrayed by Milan Baros, _Leala Sanchez _is portrayed by Masiela Lusha)

**Author's Note**: So, I hope you all enjoy it! Review it, please.  
**Special Note**: Again, thank you _**Jensen's Petunia **_for reviewing (: I appreciate it.

**Update on January 8****th**: Again, I've revised a couple of things and corrected spelling errors.

* * *

**III**. Lying

_**E**_leven o' clock rolled around, and the bar was practically deserted. Salma had left hours ago with Ivan, and I let Diego leave early (_apparently, he had a date, and I'm not a coldhearted bitch, so I let him go_). A few passed out patrons remained, and the group of ex-military men were still here; this was the only chance I ever really had to look at them all very closely (_excluding the one that had some into my bar a few times already_). Jensen had spiky, blonde hair, a goatee, and John Lennon glasses. He was drinking a light beer in a bottle, and I guessed he wasn't one to hold strong liquor—unlike his four friends. Cougar had flawless bronze skin, and his chocolate brown, shoulder length locks were tucked underneath a cowboy hat. His facial hair was trimmed neatly, and obviously, he was a man of few words—if he chose to speak at all. A man I didn't know the name of (_yet_) was seated next to Cougar; he was a light-skinned, African-American man that had a wedding ring on the appropriate finger. A darker-skinned man sat next to him with a vertical scar down the right side of his face, and it was easy to identify that he wasn't one to show any kind of compassion. "Who's the hunk?" Leala asked quietly with a smirk; she, of course, had been taught English by yours truly when I taught it to her aunt and cousin.

"Which one?" I retorted with a grin as I went back to wiping down the bar; Cortez's Corner closed a quarter until midnight.

"The chatterbox." She said as she cleaned the inside of a mug with a rag.

"Jensen. You do realize he's got at least five years on you?" I glanced over at her as I tossed the towel I used for the bar's countertop in the basket behind me (_anything put in here was later washed in the laundry room in the back_).

"Like that's ever stopped me," She snorted in an unappealing manner before adding, "Well, I'm going to talk to him, if you don't mind." She winked as she walked away with a sway in her hip. It wouldn't take much for her to hook Jensen; not only was Leala attractive and _good _at talking to men, Jensen was predictable. I would bet one thousand dollars that they'll be gone before thirty minutes is up, heading back to wherever Jensen was staying. I had them all figured out…except Cougar; he intrigued me the most, and I wanted to know if his story was _darker_ than mine. But, I doubt that I'd ever find out, living a lie and all (_and they probably wouldn't be truthful either_). Within the next ten minutes, Jensen and Leala were making out against the stage where live entertainment normally performs. I chuckled and rolled my eyes at Leala's antics; she will always be one for public displays of affection. Or in her case, _lust_. The four guys were now coming up to the bar, all with guarded looks.

"I'm Clay, that's Roque, and that's Pooch. From what I've been told, you've already met Cougar." The one that had come into my bar several times spoke as he looked me up and down. It wasn't the usual '_I'm-checking-you-out_' sort of thing either—it was more like he was sizing me up. If Cougar or Jensen had told them about our first encounter, then they all knew I was smart, observant, and outspoken.

"Gabriella Cortez." I said before glancing at the clock to my left—eleven thirteen. "Can I interest you all in another round of drinks?" I offered with a smile; it was probably the nicest poker face I've ever given, because it seemed like the four were convinced. They sat down on the stools as I prepared four shot glasses and filled each with bourbon.

"Y'know, you said to my boys earlier that they didn't know this country's language. How do you know _our _country's language?" Clay asked after gulping down his shot.

"Because I've been to America before." I responded coolly; I could only hope they didn't dig _too _deep.

"You look pretty familiar, too." Roque commented, eyeing me suspiciously.

"Oh," I shrugged with faked disinterest. If these boys were ex-Special Forces like I guessed—they probably knew my father, or at least Clay and Roque did (_since they were the oldest_).

"Boss, can I please get off? _Like now_." Leala's voice was breathless as she gripped onto the edge of the bar. Her hair was disheveled, and her cheeks were tinted red.

"Sure." I smirked as I poured another round of shots for the four men in front of me. Jensen and Leala left while she giggled like a maniac.

"If you went to America, why live _here_? Just like you said, it's poor and hot." It was the first time I had ever heard Cougar talk, and although his voice was heavenly velvet to my ears, _he was pushing too far_.

"You're either born in Bolivia, or you have no other choice." I sighed as I took Pooch's empty shot glass and cleaned it; he assured me he was done with a friendly gesture.

"Which one pertains to you?" Clay asked casually as he twirled his glass on the wooden bar top. I should've caught myself before I said that, made up some stupid lie about how I wanted to help Bolivian people, but it came out naturally—it was like I was talking to the members of The Organization again. Being ex-military, these guys should've seen _some real shit _compared to what I've seen; we're alike in many ways.

"It's time to close up." I smiled charmingly, hoping that they'd drop it for the time being as I walked around the bar. A few men were slumped over one table, and I hit it a few times until they jolted awake. "Tiempo para ti tres para ir a casa." (_Time for you three to go home._) After saying this, they both clambered to their feet and stumbled out of the bar. I looked back over at the four, and thankfully, they were standing up to leave.

"See ya tomorrow night, Cortez." Pooch grinned as he nudged me in my side.

"Cortez." Clay nodded briefly, followed by Roque who copied his action. Cougar was the only one left, and in my eyes, it seemed he was trying to _discreetly _be slower than the others.

"What's your real name, Cougar?" I asked curiously; I knew that Cougar couldn't have been his real name. It's impossible…

"I'll tell you mine, senorita, when you tell me yours." He countered with a smirk before walking past me. My mouth fell open, and my brows furrowed together in pure confusion. _How in the hell did he know I was lying all this time? He didn't stay long enough for me to catch him if he was bluffing…_

* * *

**Oooh (: Does Cougar really know she's lying? Chapter four will be up soon, hopefully. Review (:**


	4. Thoughts

**An Assassin's Love**

**Summary**: Set during the movie (after 'The Losers' are presumed dead and when they are living in Bolivia). Carlos 'Cougar' Alvarez becomes '_acquainted_' with a bar owner who isn't who she says she is.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own The Losers or anything having to do with it. I own my made-up characters though - I don't own their face / body if I use someone else to portray them, of course.  
(_Calista Castillo_ is portrayed by Adriana Lima, _Leala Sanchez _is portrayed by Masiela Lusha)

**Author's Note**: So, I hope you all enjoy it! Review it, please.  
**Special Note**: Thanks _**Jensen's Petunia **_and _**X-Sadistic-Bitch-X **_(: Your review are appreciated.

**Update on January 8****th**: Spelling errors were corrected.

* * *

**IV**. Thoughts

"_**W**_hat's wrong with you? You seem really distant…" Leala trailed off as she watched me out of the corner of her eye with a frown.

"I think I left my curling iron on this morning." I lied with a sheepish smile; I've been lying for over a decade, why stop now? There was only one thing on my mind though, the_ real _reason I couldn't stop zoning out. _Was Cougar bluffing? I could lie to anyone…but him? I didn't understand how he would know anything; my scars weren't visible, I didn't have an attitude to make him or his friends think I was a liar—so how did he know? Or did he even know…was he just trying to fuck with me and get inside my head? Was it his idea of a game?_ I clenched my fists together tightly at my sides as I leaned against the back of the bar. It was only twelve ten in the afternoon, so the morning crowd was still here.

"Why don't you go check it, eh?" Leala flashed me a smile as she popped the cap off a beer for Jose, one of our regulars.

"Okay…I'll be back in twenty minutes." I responded before heading out the front. This would give me time to ponder over Cougar, and hopefully, give me some peace of mind. _If he knew I was lying, why didn't he hold me at gun point and ask who I really was? Did he think I wasn't a threat?_ That thought alone made me scoff. Even "_dead_", I was considered the top ranked assassin across the world (_not that I'm cocky_)—and no one could ever take that from me. Unless they were better and took out more targets than I did…

"_Cortez_?" A disbelieving tone called out from behind me. I looked over my shoulder to see Pooch; out of the five, he seemed the nicest (_aside from Jensen, who I had only talked to once to call out—so I couldn't really rule out whether he was rude or not_)_. _

"Hey, Pooch." I smiled as he jogged to catch up with me.

"Shouldn't you be working?" He asked as he fell into step beside me. I thought about taking a detour, but my house was already in my sight. The outside looked _shitty_, but the inside was absolutely breathtaking; deception, another thing I learned from The Organization.

"I'm on a short break, what about you?" I asked as I glanced over at him. He wasn't that tall compared to me—only an inch taller.

"Lunch." He replied, and almost as if on cue, his stomach growled hungrily. He pointed to the two-story building we stopped at and said, "You live _here_?" I knew he hadn't meant for it to come out so harsh, but I just laughed with a nod. "I thought _I _had it bad. See you tonight, Gabs." He clapped a hand on my shoulder before taking off in the direction we walked; I slid the key in the rusted doorknob to unlock it. As soon as the door opened, calming blue wallpaper and white paneling greeted me. I shut the door behind myself, and headed towards the living room to my left. Everything was neat, and in order—just how I liked it. Weapons were scattered all throughout the house, but you'd have to hit their hiding spot a certain way for it to pop open (_just like the doors at The Organization_). There weren't any personal pictures _hanging _in my house; there was only five, and they were all secured in an envelope at the bottom of my drawer. There's one of my mother when she was pregnant with me—it had a black and white setting, and my mother was looking away from the camera, out the window. She was wearing a white, flowing blouse that was pulled up over her enlarged stomach, and her hands were wrapped around her while she smiled. The second picture was my father and I when I was ten; we were in Moscow, and he made a remark of how I would never have a picture to remember him by. He was in his usual army attire with a cigar hanging loosely from his lips since he was smiling, and he had an arm wrapped around me (_my father was the only military official I've ever trusted, and that was before I became an assassin_). In the third picture, it was a day after I got my initiation mark. I was wearing a top that cut off beneath my breasts (_I was letting the mark get some air_), and the picture was taken from behind by Star; it was a nasty, and slightly scabbed over (_since then, it's become a lighter shade than my skin and it's raised_). The fourth picture had Bishop, all of my teachers, and I, _including _Theo. Although I _could've _burned the picture, I didn't; it meant something to me, and it was the only picture with Star, Archer, and the others. The fifth picture was of Tony, Gabriella, and I; it was right after Gabriella's dance recital. The pictures had been stored in my 'secret stash', where I had gone after my house was blown up a year ago.

"Damn." I sighed as I sat on the couch, looking around the room. On the glass coffee table sat my father's dog tags; I normally wore them, but I hadn't since the '_strangers_' showed up. I rested for a few more minutes before getting up and heading back out. The heat was killing me, especially since I've been wearing jeans and long-sleeves to hide my scars. The last thing I needed was Cougar, Jensen, Pooch, Roque, and Clay to see them. The scars had become much smaller over all these years, so half of them were barely noticeable (_but there were a few that shocked others, such as my initiation mark_). It didn't take long to reach the bar, and I noticed Jensen sitting on a stool, talking to Leala. Leala's never been the type of girl to _talk _to a guy after she's had her with him; she was practically the perfect replica of an average guy.

"Did you leave your curling iron on after all?" Leala asked as soon as I was within earshot. With a small smile, I shook my head 'no'. She excused herself from Jensen and headed over to a few customers that had just entered.

"How old are you, Jensen?" I asked curiously as I leaned against the bar. Leala and Jensen reminded me of Theo and I when we first started our secret relationship. If I could go back to erase our relationship, I would; then I would probably still be at The Organization, Theo wouldn't have gone rogue and told the Scottish mob about my whereabouts and Gabriella Cortez and her father would still be happily alive in Brazil.

"Twenty-three." He responded before asking, "Why?" The way he was looking at me suggestively indicated that he misinterpreted my question.

"I was asking to see how much older you were compared to Leala." I smiled slightly as his cheeks flushed a deep red. "Don't worry about it, kid." I chuckled with an eye roll as I poured him another drink. Leala was helping some customers, so it gave me time to talk to Jensen. _Alone_. "So, what's Cougar's story?" I questioned; I knew it wouldn't do any good to act with less interest. I was asking about _one _of his friends, not all of them; so no matter what I did, he would know I have _something _for Cougar. What was that something? I wasn't exactly sure yet.

* * *

**There's chapter four. I hope you guys enjoyed it. Please review (:**


	5. Anger

**An Assassin's Love**

**Summary**: Set during the movie (after 'The Losers' are presumed dead and when they are living in Bolivia). Carlos 'Cougar' Alvarez becomes '_acquainted_' with a bar owner who isn't who she says she is.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own The Losers or anything having to do with it. I own my made-up characters though - I don't own their face / body if I use someone else to portray them, of course.  
(_Calista Castillo_ is portrayed by Adriana Lima, _Leala Sanchez _is portrayed by Masiela Lusha)

**Author's Note**: Okay, so I understand that Cougar barely speaks, but he speaks a little more in my story.  
**Special Note**: _**Jensen's Petunia**_, I love thanking you, because your reviews are great motivators (:

**Updated on January 9****th**: There was only one spelling error in this, haha.

* * *

**V**. Anger

"_**Y**_ou have a thing for Cougar! I should've known. Pretty much all girls are attracted to the Spanish, mysterious mute." He laughed after clapping his hands together once. Although I couldn't completely justify that I had a_ 'thing' _for Cougar, it was _some_thing, and I did believe he was rather gorgeous. "Well, I don't think he'd appreciate me telling you about him—" He was cut off before he could continue as Cougar took a seat next to him. I was slightly surprised that I hadn't seen him come in. I never missed _anything…_how did I miss that? "_Awkward_." Jensen stressed the word before sliding off the stool. "I'll leave you two to talk." He tried to conceal his smile, but to no avail.

"Whiskey." Cougar stated briefly; the only reason Cougar and Jensen weren't at the doll factory was because its Sunday_—_a slow day where work didn't go on at _a lot _of factories, actually. I poured him a shot of his preferred drink and watched him down it. "So, senorita, what do you want to know?" Cougar asked as a smirk made its way onto his lips. _He's fucking toying with me. The look on his face says it all. _I thought to myself, and I smiled slyly.

"Real name, for starters." I crossed my arms underneath my chest, and it drew his attention there momentarily before his eyes flickered back up to meet mine.

"You already know the answer to that." He replied as I prepared him another shot of whiskey. I bit the inside of my mouth hard_—how in the hell was I supposed to respond to that_?

"_Fine._" I forced myself to remain calm and asked, "How old are you?"

"Older than you." No man has ever been able to piss me off so much _just _by words. Actions, _yes_. Words, _no_. There were only a few times in my life that I have truly been angry; when my mother was murdered, when my father was murdered, when Theo went rogue, when the Scottish mob put a bounty on my head, and when my house was blown up (_only because Tony and Gabriella were in there_).

"How do you know how old I am?" I retorted as I ran a hand through my hair. It was down, for once, which was a bad idea considering my long-sleeved shirt and jeans. It wasn't _that _bad though at the moment, since I was indoors.

"I don't." He shrugged; I was officially agitated, and I balled my hands up into fists at my sides. I didn't want to physically attack Cougar for whatever reason; I would've just punched a wall, but I was keeping my anger bottled up. Emotions_—_I wasn't supposed to have any due to my training, yet they always managed to appear. Anger, guilt, and regret were the leading three. Anger, for my parents whose deaths' I haven't fully avenged. Guilt, for the families I've broken up. Regret, for getting Tony and Gabriella involved in my life one year ago. "You're twenty-seven." He concluded, and although I tried not too, my mouth fell open in surprise. "I guessed." He revealed his secret with a smirk before adding, "I'm twenty-nine."

"Why are you _really _in Bolivia?" Although I already knew the answer, I preferred to hear it aloud. For all I know, I could be wrong…

"It's complicated, senorita." He sighed before sliding off the stool. This was the first time I ever noticed he never referred to me as Gabriella _or _Cortez, only senorita. "Adios." His smile was as sincere as it gets; he should smile more often.

"You have the hots for him." Leala stated knowingly; I cocked my head to the side as he exited the bar. The man knew how to piss somebody off with words_—_although he rarely spoke, he had a nice smile, and _ass_. "You really ought to get laid." Leala's laughter filled my ears as I poured myself a drink. I wasn't one to indulge in alcohol, but I surely needed it after speaking with _Cougar_.

* * *

**The shortest one by far**_**—**_**sorry. Chapter six will be coming out soon (:**


	6. Dancing

**An Assassin's Love**

**Summary**: Set during the movie (after 'The Losers' are presumed dead and when they are living in Bolivia). Carlos 'Cougar' Alvarez becomes '_acquianted_' with a bar owner who isn't who she says she is.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own The Losers or anything having to do with it. I own my made-up characters though - I don't own their face / body if I use someone else to portray them, of course.  
(_Calista Castillo_ is portrayed by Adriana Lima, _Leala Sanchez _is portrayed by Masiela Lusha)

**Author's Note**: Yay, chapter six (: Read and review, please.  
**Side Note**: I'm also going to be releasing a Jensen / OC story in the next few days, so check that out if you want too.  
**Special Note**: _**Jensen's Petunia**_, thanks for reviewing yet again (:

* * *

**VI. **Dancing

_**S**_panish music played softly amidst the loud chatter of my bar. The sun set thirty minutes ago, so the evening crowd was steadily pouring in. Live entertainment took place three nights a week—Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday; it's only Monday. "Are you _ever _going to make a move?" Leala snarled playfully at my side as she prepared a rum and coke for a regular. I didn't realize I had been staring at Cougar (_who was seated in a nearby corner with his friends_).

"I am _not _discussing my sex life with a nineteen-year-old." I objected as I occupied myself cleaning mugs. I had only been with two people in my life—_Theo _and _Tony_. Theo knew about my scars, and Tony didn't care to talk about them until I was ready too. If Cougar and I were to ever get involved, I have a feeling he wouldn't let it go. Whatever Jensen thought I had for Cougar, he was right. The _some_thing I couldn't put my finger on was _attraction_, whether I liked it or not. "Where's Diego been these past couple days?" I asked, hoping to avoid the subject of my personal life.

"Final exams are coming up for him. He took yesterday, today, and the rest of the week off." Leala replied, and I nodded. A new song began to play, and it made Leala squeal. "This is the song that played when Jensen and I—" I clapped my hand over her mouth before she could finish this sentence. I was too late, because visual images appeared in my mind.

"I didn't need to know that, _Leala_." I hissed over my shoulder, but I smiled a moment later at the innocent look she put on. Jensen came over to the counter a second or so later, and he offered his hand to Leala. At first, I figured they were leaving, but after Leala rounded the corner, he twirled her. They were going to _dance_? Jensen didn't seem like the dancing type…

"I was going to say dancing! You should get your mind out of the gutter, Gaby." Leala yelled from the dance floor before moving with Jensen. Not that many people came to my bar and danced, but there was an area where you could do it (_in front of the stage_). Jensen's movements were surprisingly swift, and he made one hell of a dancer if you ask me. Cougar slid onto the stool in front of me, though he watched Leala and Jensen with a smirk.

"You don't seem like the dancing type." He said simply before sipping his beer.

"Neither do you." I smiled as I poured myself a shot of whiskey and downed it. After four more songs, Leala stumbled back over to the counter with a grin.

"Uh, can we…y'know…go?" Her plea was weak, and I could see the desire for Jensen in her eyes.

"Sure…" I trailed off with a chuckle and an eye roll. If I did have anything extra to say to Leala, I wouldn't be able too…her and Jensen were gone before I could turn my attention to Cougar.

"What did you do in America?" I should've known better to think Cougar and I would sit in a comfortably silence; neither of us knew much about the other. I knew he went by _Cougar_, he was twenty-nine, he worked at the doll factory, and he didn't mind hard liquor.

"Worked." I stated simply, but that one word seemed to say it all in Cougar's head. He knew I would rather not talk about it, just like he didn't want to tell me how he ended up here, so he let it go…for now.

* * *

**Well, finally. It's up (: I had written a sixth chapter before, but I didn't like how it played out so I rewrote it. This one is much better in comparsion. I apologize that it was short again. Hopefully, chapter seven or eight will be longer. Well, review, please (:**


	7. Real Names and First Kiss

**An Assassin's Love**

**Summary**: Set during the movie (after 'The Losers' are presumed dead and when they are living in Bolivia). Carlos 'Cougar' Alvarez becomes '_acquainted_' with a bar owner who isn't who she says she is.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own The Losers or anything having to do with it. I own my made-up characters though - I don't own their face / body if I use someone else to portray them, of course.  
(_Calista Castillo_ is portrayed by Adriana Lima, _Leala Sanchez _is portrayed by Masiela Lusha, _Ivan Ruiz _is portrayed by Luis Armand Garcia, _Salma Ruiz _is portrayed by Constance Marie)

**Author's Note**: Yay, chapter seven! (: Read and review, please.  
**Special Note**: _**Jensen's Petunia**_, thank you for the lovely review (: And here is the chapter with real names.

**Updated on January 9****th**

* * *

**VII**. Real Names and First Kiss

"_**D**_o you believe in true love, Gaby?" Leala's question made me choke on my coffee. That was the _first _time somebody had ever asked me that, and I sure as hell didn't know the answer. I have loved people (_my mother and father had my unconditional love, little Gabriella Cortez had my mother-like love, and I had a different kind of love for Tony—but I know I wasn't in love with him_).

"Honestly, _no_." I responded before taking a bite out of my croissant. We had gone around the corner to a small café to have breakfast, just Leala and I. One week had passed since Cougar and I watched Jensen and Leala dance.

"Why not, senorita?" I looked up to see Cougar standing there with Jensen. _Must they always show up randomly_. I thought to myself as I slid over in the booth to accommodate Cougar, while Leala did the same for Jensen.

"There's no such thing as a happy ending." I clenched my coffee cup a little tighter, and I'm sure Cougar was the only one who noticed.

"All this pessimism is making me thirsty…waitress!" Leala elbowed Jensen in the ribs, and made a gesture to get up. He did what she asked, and then they were both looking at Cougar and I.

"We'll see you two later." Leala winked before dragging Jensen out of the café. Leala was _determined_ to get me alone with Cougar every chance she could.

"Were you raised to believe that?" Cougar asked as he watched me intensely.

"I guess you could say that." I grunted with an eye roll and a shrug.

"You shouldn't be so negative, senorita." Cougar said as he took his cowboy hat off and sat it on the table. It was the first time he had _ever _removed it in front of me—did it mean something? "You can talk to me anytime you want too." _Ah, of course it meant something. It was like a silent trust bond. _I nodded and watched him from the corner of my eye. The way he didn't flinch at the glare, and how relaxed his facial features were. "How about we begin with real names?" He suggested, and I momentarily hesitated.

"Calista." It had been so long since I said my _real _name aloud; it almost sounded foreign.

"Carlos." He extended his hand in my direction with a charming smile. _Was he serious? I just confirmed that I had been lying, and he's playing nice…what the hell?_

"If you knew I was lying, why didn't you kill me?" I asked as I shook his hand. It was odd how he was quiet around others, but he actually held a _conversation _when he was with me.

"I liked you,_ Calista_, and I still do." A smirk was on his lips for a second before fading. "The scars?" He cocked an eyebrow as his eyes flashed down to my exposed collarbone, and then my legs. On my collarbone was a scar about an inch long from a knife fight with Theo, and the scars on my legs were too many to explain—scars left from bullets, knives, burns…the list goes on, but they were _all _from The Executioner.

"It was part of the job." That pretty much said it all; he knew I wasn't going to go into great detail about my '_job_' until I was ready, and it looked like he was okay with that. "I know your military, or ex-military…are you here because you got burned?" I figured I'd be able to ask one question, and get a partial answer (_just like how I'd done for him; it would be a yes or no answer, not any explanation_). His response was a nod, and I felt a wave of relief wash over me. I had become increasingly paranoid, but with that cleared up, there was no reason to be paranoid anymore. "Don't tell your friends I've been lying. It won't go over smoothly, I promise you that." I sighed as I fingered the coffee mug's handle. I knew that for a fact; I had a brief run in with Roque in the alley, and he made sure that I knew that he knew I had '_secrets_' that he could get out of me with his knife.

"Of course, senorita." He smiled and put on his hat before standing up and offering his hand; I took it.

_Eight Hours Later…_

I passed a drink to one of my regular patrons, who grinned and rose the bottle with a mouthed '_thanks_'. I nodded and headed over to a few new guys to take their order. "¿Qué le puedo conseguir tres esta noche?" (_What can I get you three tonight?_) One was American, and the other two were Spanish. The American looked like a reporter, and a _stupid_ one at that.

"Me casa, su casa!" He hiccupped; _what an idiot, he can't even speak proper Spanish_. I thought with an eye roll before preparing to walk away. He grabbed my backside and attempted to pull me back to him. Before I had the chance to turn around and hurt him, Cougar was on top of him, beating the living shit out of him. Cougar only ended up with a bloody nose thanks to the guys flailing limbs.

"You really are a cougar." I giggled as I held a rag underneath his nose. He was leaning against the sink, and apparently, he didn't mind me taking '_care_' of him. I brushed his hair behind his ears with my unoccupied hand, and it must've been a sensual gesture because the next thing I knew, I was pinned against the wall. Cougar's lips hovered over mine, and I could smell his scent—it was strong and spicy, but it _definitely _suited him. He captured my lips with his, and my hands ran up his shirt to the back of his head where they locked in his hair. He kept one hand on my hip, and the other on my cheek. Well, the man is a _damn _good kisser.

* * *

**Yay, it's up. It's a little longer than the last two? But not as long as I hoped it would be—but I'm satisfied, and I hope the readers are too! Chapter eight will be up soon, and if I can manage, maybe today (: I'm currently working on the Jensen / OC story, and debating on whether it should have a similar set-up to the first chapter in this one. But I don't know. Anyways, review, please (:**


	8. The Bedroom

**An Assassin's Love**

**Summary**: Set during the movie (after 'The Losers' are presumed dead and when they are living in Bolivia). Carlos 'Cougar' Alvarez becomes '_acquainted_' with a bar owner who isn't who she says she is.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own The Losers or anything having to do with it. I own my made-up characters though - I don't own their face / body if I use someone else to portray them, of course.  
(_Calista Castillo_ is portrayed by Adriana Lima, _Leala Sanchez _is portrayed by Masiela Lusha, _Ivan Ruiz _is portrayed by Luis Armand Garcia, _Salma Ruiz _is portrayed by Constance Marie)

**Author's Note**: Here's chapter eight. _This _is why it's rated mature. Sex scenes are _very _hard for me to write, because I'm an all-around awkward person, but I tried my best. I hope it's good? Mi amor means my love, by the way. Anyway, read on (:  
**Special Note**: _**Jensen's Petunia**_, thank you for the review. I can tell you now, _Leala _is not going to die. I like her as a character too much; what happens to her and Jensen will be revealed later on, of course. And nothing significant happened in the eight hours, just them hanging out (: This is the juicy chapter! And an American reporter was only there for say, reporting the poverty (_he's not going to play a part in it, I didn't find a way to fit him in_). And Theo _may _be in the later chapters (; You'll just have to see.  
_**XxXLIFEafterDEATHXxX**_, you'll see in one of the next few chapters how The Losers react (:  
_**boneslover13**_, thank you for your review. Here's the update (:

**Updated on January 9th**

* * *

**VIII**.The Bedroom

_**T**_he next month flew by _quickly_. Cougar was at the bar as much as possible, and we were taking our relationship slow. We didn't talk about our professions, or _ex_-professions really. We just talked about what our favorite things are, and that sort of thing. Leala and Jensen were going steady, too; it wasn't like Leala to go steady with _anyone_, so I know Jensen means a lot to her. None of Cougar's friends had threatened me since the run in with Roque, but it seems they all kept a watchful eye on me. Except Jensen, who was too smitten with Leala to care about his surroundings. Tonight was _the _night. When I say _the _night, I mean _the _night Cougar comes over to my house for the first time. I was nervous, to say the least. Nobody but Salma, Ivan, and Leala have stepped foot in my house. I cleaned everything…twice. I hid the five pictures I owned in a better place, along with the dog tags. I knew I should've been able to trust Cougar already—he knew my real name, that I had a past I'd rather not talk about, and he saw the scars (_most of them anyway_)—it was just difficult. A tiny part of me did trust him, but the rest of me was on guard. A sharp knock on the front door indicated he was here. I opened the door, and marveled his beauty…it never ceased to amaze me. His hair fell to his shoulders in natural waves, and his signature cowboy hat was on. He wore a normal, sleeveless shirt (_temperatures reached an all-time high of one hundred and two today_), and he was wearing a pair of jeans. He had a single rose in one hand, which surprised me—he didn't exactly seem like a romantic man…nevertheless, I invited him in. "Your house is nicer than I expected," A low chuckle erupted from his throat as his eyes skimmed over every surface.

"Thanks, I guess." I laughed lightly before he handed me the rose. "This is sweet." I smiled, and led him into the kitchen where I cooked dinner; it was one of my favorite hobbies. "I made lasagna…I hope it's good enough for you." I sighed as we both took seats at the small kitchen table. After his first bite, he smiled, and I figured that was his way of telling me _it's great_. We ate in silence for the rest of the time, and by the time we were finished, it was nearing ten o' clock. Leala was in charge of the bar today, with the help of Diego…she insisted, so it wasn't like I really had a choice. Cougar was walking to the front door, but his mind changed for the night after a supposedly innocent, good night kiss. In the back of my head, it reminded me of Theo and I, but I was too busy leading him blindly to my bedroom. He grabbed me by my backside and lifted me up as my legs wrapped around his waist. He began sucking on a sensitive spot on my neck, waiting for the directions to my bedroom. "Up the stairs, to the right." I moaned louder than I meant too, and I felt Cougar smiling against my skin with satisfaction. It took only a few seconds for Cougar to carry me up the stairs, and since the door was already open, we walked right in. He threw me onto the bed, and slowly crawled up to hover over me after he sat his hat on the nightstand. He planted kisses on my jaw, down my neck, down my chest (_although I was wearing a shirt_), and to my jeans. When he was coming back up, his hands slid up my shirt and rested on my bra covered breasts. "_Carlos_…" His name rolled off my tongue as a purr, and he must've liked it because something in between a growl and moan came from him. I shed my shirt first, tossing it nearby onto the lamp while prepared to do the same with his. I rolled us both over so I was straddling him, and kissed down his bare chest. The man had _abs_, and muscles. I stopped at the waistband of his jeans, and peppered kisses along it before being pulled back up by my hair (_gently_). He managed to unhook my bra with one hand, while the other was tangled in my hair. That ended up somewhere on the other side of the room; he flipped us back over and provided an equal amount of attention to each breast—sucking and nibbling. The man was all too good with his hands and mouth, I only _wondered _what he was going to do with… "Oh, _Carlos_." I let out a moan that interrupted my thoughts; his hand had traveled in my panties, and was lightly stroking my wet folds. My jeans ended up somewhere out of my reach, as did his. The only thing separating us now was _his _boxers and _my _thong. His hand went in my panties once more as mine slid into his boxers.

"_Mi amor_." He whispered sensually in my ear, and an odd whimper escaped my lips. This man did _not _know what he was doing to me. He _tore _my underwear trying to get them off (i_s this why he's nicknamed Cougar? He's animalistic in bed…_), and didn't struggle one bit getting his boxers off. He positioned himself at my entrance, but he didn't delve deep like I expected him too. I looked at him through lazy, half-lidded eyes; his eyes held passion, desire, and something I was a little familiar with…_love_. He didn't have to say any words for me to know what he was asking; I nodded my head with a smile, and that's all it took for him to enter me. My fingernails raked up his shoulder blades, while he kept himself propped up over me by an elbow on either side of me. For a moment, we stayed like this, and then he began to pump in and out. He found a rhythm, and I found myself moaning louder and louder with each thrust. I was nearly at my climax, and he must've known this, because one of his hands slipped in between us to stroke my clitoris. I bit my lip hard when I orgasmed, and he soon followed. He rolled over, and a thin layer of sweat was on covered both of or bodies.

"Good night." I whispered before rolling over. _That was unexpected… _That was my last thought before falling asleep.

* * *

**Well, there's the sex scene. Sorry if I wasn't descriptive enough, like I said it's hard for me to write them. Ha, anyways, review, please (:**


	9. Wake Up Call

**An Assassin's Love**

**Summary**: Set during the movie (after 'The Losers' are presumed dead and when they are living in Bolivia). Carlos 'Cougar' Alvarez becomes '_acquianted_' with a bar owner who isn't who she says she is.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own The Losers or anything having to do with it. I own my made-up characters though - I don't own their face / body if I use someone else to portray them, of course.  
(_Calista Castillo_ is portrayed by Adriana Lima)

**Author's Note**: Here's chapter nine. I hope you guys enjoy it, please review.  
**Special Note**: _**Jensen's Petunia**_, no problem. And don't worry, it wasn't a bad thing. Just how Cougar and Calista kiss and then it led to another thing, just like it had been with Theo and Calista. And yeah, no condom (: It can mean something later on, but you'll just have to see (;

* * *

**IX. **Wake Up Call

_**I **_woke up at four in the morning with an odd feeling looming over me. Something that I hadn't felt in a long time. _Danger_. Without waking Cougar (_which is very difficult_), I got out of bed and crept over to the nearby wall. I lightly tapped it in three spots, and it quietly opened with a sizzle to reveal two Kimber Custom Royal II (_they had blue polished finishes and rosewood grips_) pistols. I took them both, and closed the small hiding spot before heading back to bed. I slid them under my pillow, though I kept my hands on them tightly. I laid on my stomach, so I could hold them both. I couldn't go back to sleep, but I pretended too. Cougar got up once to get a glass of water, but he easily fell back asleep. I knew when it was morning, because birds chirped outside my window (_so cliché, I know_). My body tensed slightly when I heard my door being ripped off its hinges downstairs (_rather quietly, might I add_). I heard four seperate footsteps coming up the stairs and entering my room. Someone let out a low whistle, and then I heard Cougar stir awake. As soon as the four were in my bedroom, I jolted upwards and spun around with the guns in my hands. It was Clay, Roque, Pooch, and Jensen; _all _holding guns. Cougar looked torn, but I hoped he knew I would understand if he chose his boys. Pooch put up a hand to cover my bare upper half, Clay and Roque tried their hardest not to look, but Jensen was _gawking_. Eyes wide, mouth ajar—I just had to make a comment. "What, kid, you never seen breasts before?" Under any other circumstances, it would have been something to laugh at…but obviously, something major was about to ensue, and this wasn't a laughing matter.

"I cross referenced your face with tons of different databases. Gabriella Cortez isn't _alive_. She was a little girl who died one year ag—" Before he could continue, I cut him off.

"In an explosion. I know this, already, Jensen." I scoffed with an eye roll. I didn't like to talk about Tony or Gabriella, to _anyone_. "I'm guessing you all need an explanation, my real name, who I am…all that stuff?" I sighed, and they all nodded. I lowered my guns and put them on the nightstand beside me. I wasn't going to shoot any of them, I minds well stop acting like I was going too. It seemed like they were willing to give me a chance if I gave them the truth. "Well, I know what database you can find me in." I smirked as I stood; once again, Pooch covered my body with his hand, Clay and Roque were having a hard time looking away, and Jensen gawked.

"Ew, where'd you get the scar?" Jensen was pointing to the scar in the small of my back.

"You'll see soon enough." I responded as I got a long t-shirt out of one of my drawers (_it was long enough to reach my knees_), and I threw Cougar's boxers at him before heading downstairs. After Cougar put on his boxers, they all followed me. Roque was the only one still pointing his gun at me, while the others had lowered them to their sides. I hit the wall nearest to the kitchen table in six places, and a large, plasma screen television was revealed, along with a keyboard underneath it on a glass table. I pulled up a chair and typed a few things in before a white screen popped up. It had the most recent picture of me to the far right (_it's two years old, since I retired then_), and it listed all my stats. "Real name, Calista Charmene Eloisa Blanca Castillo. Daughter of Mattie and Eloise Castillo…" I paused with a sigh. My parents had gotten married after my dad took a second trip to South America (_when he found out he had a daughter, me_). It was simply legalized in the court house. "Both murdered. Code name C352C. Age, twenty-seven. Kills, well, you see the number up there." I moved away from the television so they could read it all themselves. "I've been retired for two years, presumed dead for one." I began to make coffee, because I knew I needed it after this unexpected wake up call.

* * *

**Finally! The Losers know about her. Now everyone can be real with one another. Aisha will be making her appearance in an upcoming chapter; probably two or three from the next one, maybe. I don't know yet. I hope you guys enjoyed it, despite the shortness. Review, please.**


	10. The Truth

**An Assassin's Love**

**Summary**: Set during the movie (after 'The Losers' are presumed dead and when they are living in Bolivia). Carlos 'Cougar' Alvarez becomes '_acquianted_' with a bar owner who isn't who she says she is.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own The Losers or anything having to do with it. I own my made-up characters though - I don't own their face / body if I use someone else to portray them, of course.  
(_Calista Castillo_ is portrayed by Adriana Lima)

**Author's Note**: Here's chapter ten. I hope you guys enjoy it, please review. Sorry it's short, by the way.  
**Special Note**: _**Jensen's Petunia**_, sorry! Haha, well, here's the chapter you were asking all the questions about (:

* * *

**X. **The Truth

"_**W**_ait a minute, so you're telling me Mattie Castillo didn't die of malaria?" Clay was angry—the look on his face said it all.

"Yeah. He was shot by four men in the Scottish mob, who were hired by a man named Max…" I trailed off due to the look on all their faces. "You know him?" I was asking about Max, and I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. I wouldn't hesitate to torture any of them…except maybe Cougar…to find out information.

"Max is the one who burned us." Of course Jensen was the first one capable of talking. Clay, Roque, Pooch, and Cougar all took seats at the kitchen table.

"Sorry." I knew _sorry _wasn't much, and it surely didn't help the situation. "How'd you get burned?" I asked as I sipped my coffee and leaned back against the countertop. If any of the guys wanted coffee, they could get it themselves.

"Well, we were sent into the Bolivian jungle on a search-and-destroy mission. After we painted our target for an air strike, Cougs spotted a truck full of children being brought into the compound. We couldn't abort the mission, Max wouldn't let us. Literally. He jammed the radio frequencies so we couldn't contact the pilot. We rescued the children, and let them get on the chopper we were supposed to be on. The pilot blew up the chopper, because Max thought we were on it. _That's _how we got burned." Clay explained, and I was surprised he was the one who did. I expected Jensen would because he didn't know when to shut up (_not that it bothered me_)…but he seemed pretty quiet now.

"Wow." That was a heavy burden to carry, but I understood. I carried the burden of over three thousand deaths by my weapons; the torn families…Gabriella and Tony's deaths, who didn't deserve to die.

"Tell us more about you." Jensen wanted to avoid talking about the subject of them getting burned, for the time being at least.

"Uh…okay." I sighed as I ran a hand through my hair. "Mom was murdered when I was seven, and they made it look like an accident. I lived with my dad for years until he was murdered when I was thirteen. They sent me back to Brazil where General Raphael of the Brazilian army watched over me. I killed him, and found a way out of Brazil to America. I ended up in Los Angeles, where I met Quentin Bishop. I was trained for three years before being inducted into The Organization. That's how I have that ugly scar on my back, Jensen." I stopped momentarily to take a gulp of hot coffee. "I got involved with one of my teachers, Theo. I was seventeen when he told me he loved me. I didn't love him back, and he went rogue. After I turned twenty, Bishop found the guys who killed my father. I killed three of them, and took my time on their leader who had the information. He told me it was Max who ordered the hit, but he didn't know why. After a few years passed, I met a man named Colby Montgomery in the grocery store. He was Scotland's ultimate weapon against me, since he was the closest to me they could get. Theo and Colby tried to kill two of my teachers and I, but that plan failed. I knew it was time for me to retire for everyone else's sake after my twenty-fifth birthday. I moved to Brazil, and met an architect, Tony. He had a daughter, Gabriella, and they moved in with me after Tony built my house. One year was all the time we had before they blew up my house when _I _wasn't in it. That's my lifetime story shortened in under ten minutes." I pinched the bridge of my nose. I hadn't told someone about my life _ever_; it was forbidden, to say the least. They all seemed to understand, and seemed to be calming down since this morning. _Finally, the truth has been told_. I thought to myself as Cougar appeared at my side and rubbed a soothing hand down my back.

* * *

**Here's chapter ten! I hope you guys enjoyed it. Review, please.**


	11. Cemetery

**An Assassin's Love**

**Summary**: Set during the movie (after 'The Losers' are presumed dead and when they are living in Bolivia). Carlos 'Cougar' Alvarez becomes '_acquianted_' with a bar owner who isn't who she says she is.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own The Losers or anything having to do with it. I own my made-up characters though - I don't own their face / body if I use someone else to portray them, of course.  
(_Calista Castillo_ is portrayed by Adriana Lima)

**Author's Note**: Here's chapter eleven. It's where Aisha makes her appearance. Also, the Jensen / OC story might not be coming out as soon as I hoped. I'm working on it too make it perfect, so it might be a while. Sorry. I'm also working on a fanfic for The Expendables. Well, on with the story. I hope you enjoy, and review, please.  
**Side Note**: Very soon, my updates might begin lacking. I'm not sure if I can get on the computer any next week, and school starts the week after next (_horrible_). I really have to work hard this year; I'm taking Latin II Honors, Algebra II (_for the second time—I suck at math_), Chemistry, US History, English 11 (_online_), and culinary arts.  
**Special Note**: _**boneslover13**_, thanks for the review.  
_**Jensen's Petunia**_, thank you for your review, as always.

* * *

**XI. **Cemetery

_**T**_he next few months were a blur, really…because they moved by so fast. Cougar was romantic when we were alone, and sweet when we were in public. I _loved _him, and in the back of my mind in neon flashing lights it said _In Love_…but I wasn't so sure about that. Leala and Jensen were _still _together, and although I found their love for one another sickening at times, it was nearly identical to the relationship I have with Cougar. There were differences of course—Leala didn't know about _The Losers _or who I really am. Pooch was my go-to guy about romance and love—since he had a wife with a baby on the way that he was madly in love with. Clay told me stories of Mattie and him in 'the old days'; although my dad preferred to work alone, he still had friends, and Clay was one of them. Franklin Clay (_I learned all of their full names shortly after I told them everything about me_) reminded me of my father, actually; strong-willed and determined. Clay told Cougar, Jensen, and I at the same time to meet him at the graveyard around noon. I was at the doll factory for Pepito's birthday, one of the male workers. I arrived on time, because I wasn't one for tardiness. Now we were simply waiting on Cougar and Jensen who would _not _leave the party early. "If I'm here, does that mean—" I was cut off by Clay's smile and a nod.

"Yes, you're part of our team. You deserve revenge as much as we do." He said, and with one nod, I was done talking for the time being. He told me that Aisha, a mysterious woman, knew where to find Max, and gave him a card to meet here with us.

"Here they come." I felt my blood boil when I saw Cougar was riding on the back of a moped, his arms around the woman's waist. There was _no _excuse, considering Jensen wasn't holding onto the woman riding the other moped, and he was staying put just fine. My nails dug into my palms as the mopeds slowed to a stop in front of us. Cougar went to get off the moped, but the woman pulled him back for a kiss. The woman stopped short of the kiss, and looked at me. She just _stared _while holding onto Cougar's upper arm. "You want to keep staring and see what happens or do you want to drive that piece of shit out of here?" I growled, and took a step forward. She released Cougar's arm immediately, and turned the moped around to drive away. The other moped driver who was muscular got off, and it looked like she was prepared to fight me for threatening her friend. "You really sure you want to do this." I asked as I cracked my neck. It popped six different times, and it was enough to scare her off. Cougar wrapped his arm around my waist with a smile, and we all walked forward into the graveyard. I wasn't paying attention to everyone's conversation; I heard bits and pieces—_how Clay couldn't get a sane girl _and _what Aisha's file said that Jensen found._ I sat in Cougar's lap while Roque and Pooch leaned against a nearby tombstone. Clay and Jensen were standing as Roque said something about he wasn't going to be killed by a girl.

"It's been a long time since anyone called me a girl." An unfamiliar voice said to my left. _So this is Aisha_. I thought as I sized her up. Piercings, hair tied back, and decent sense of style. "She put a bomb in your car?" She asked with disbelief as she took a few steps forward to stand beside Clay. _Where was I during that part of the conversation_? I asked myself mentally before providing Aisha with my undivided attention.

"She was volatile." He sighed before nodding to Jensen. "Aisha, this is Jensen, Roque, Pooch, Cali, and Cougar." _Cali _had become my nickname amongst the group; and I'll admit it was much better than a name that wasn't mine or C352C.

"That's your names…really?" She laughed, and when we all stared back at her silently, she got that those were our names. "Gentlemen, in ninety-seven hours, Max will be in Miami." Aisha looked at each of us as she walked to the center of our little circle. "He travels in an armored truck with private security armed to the teeth." She paused as she tossed a folder onto the tombstone (_where Pooch was_), and her eyes locked with mine. "We have a better shot at kidnapping the President." _Wow, that doesn't surprise me_. I thought as I began to mess with the hem of my shirt. "The good news for all of you is that I have the power to get you all back into the U.S., and fund this operation as you see fit." Aisha walked back to Clay's side, and waited for our reactions.

"And why should we believe you?" Roque asked as he fingers his knife. My guess was that a million ways to kill Aisha with a knife were going through his head.

"Because I'm the first person you've come across that admits you exist. Listen, you all can stay here in Bolivia and rot for all I care or you can go home and get revenge on the man that framed you." She asked harshly with a tense jaw. _She has something against Max herself. _The thought was clear, and I knew it was true. I wouldn't call her out in front of the boys, I'd wait until we were alone and in private.

"Colonel?" Jensen looks over at Clay.

"Don't call me that…" He growled stoically. Something was wrong, and in my opinion, it was probably Roque's fault. _Every _little problem practically revolves around Roque. Clay suddenly added, "We're not soldiers anymore."

"You realize if we do this we're waging war on the Central Intelligence Agency?" Pooch asked, and he looked at each of us. He was worried for his wife…I could see it written all over his face. Cougar took the folder then, and I looked through it as he flipped through it.

"They started it." He was silently fuming, but he was always a quiet one.

"I'm in. No matter what." I said as I slid off Cougar's lap. We all deserved revenge, and I didn't think I was entitled to more than any of them. I walked off from the group, and waited on the street for the others.

* * *

**Sorry it was kinda short. I hope you guys enjoyed it, because it might be it for a while. I'm really sorry, but I will update as soon as I get the chance. Review, please.**


	12. The United States

**An Assassin's Love**

**Summary**: Set during the movie (after 'The Losers' are presumed dead and when they are living in Bolivia). Carlos 'Cougar' Alvarez becomes '_acquianted_' with a bar owner who isn't who she says she is.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own The Losers or anything having to do with it. I own my made-up characters though - I don't own their face / body if I use someone else to portray them, of course.  
(_Calista Castillo_ is portrayed by Adriana Lima)

**Author's Note**: Chapter twelve! Finally it's here everyone. I know it's taken way too long, but at least it's up :D  
**Special Note**: I actually haven't watched the Losers in a while, so sorry if their dialogue doesn't follow the script / movie.

* * *

**XII. **The United States

_**T**_he coffin I was in made me feel slightly claustrophobic. I lost track of how long I had been in here. I had slept for some time, but I woke up when the coffin shook. I suspect it was turbulence in an airplane; Aisha didn't tell us all the details of us getting back to the United States, which didn't bother me. She had skeletons in her closet, but didn't everyone? I had been taught to never trust anyone, but I took a chance twelve years ago, and if I hadn't done that, then where would I be now? My thoughts came to a halt as the plane landed with screeching tires. Moments later, I felt the coffin I was in being lugged elsewhere. My first guess would be a warehouse. It wasn't too long before I heard the cord securing the coffin snap, which was the signal for me to get out. As I opened the coffin, everyone else was getting out as well. Sadness was written all over Jensen's face, and I guessed it was because he had to leave Leala behind. He wasn't even allowed to say goodbye to her…I had been so engrossed in my thoughts, I only now realized that Cougar was standing beside me with his arm wrapped around my waist. "Welcome to the land of living." Aisha spoke with a smirk. "What are we doing first?" Aisha asked as she placed a hand on each hip.

"We're going bird hunting." Clay smiled and at the mention of _bird hunting_, I knew exactly what he was thinking. We were going to steal a plane—what kind, I wasn't sure yet.

"Fue el viaje bien?" (_Was the trip alright?_) Cougar whispered against my ear as we began walking.

"Wasn't the first time I was in a coffin." I looked over at him with a shrug and a crooked smile. Jensen must have overheard my comment, and was beginning to rant about how much oxygen a person has after being put into a sealed coffin. Cougar's look said it all—he wanted to know how many times I was in a coffin, why, and who put me there so he could kill them. "It was only two times before. Both times I was on a mission—one was part of it, while the other was unexpected. The first time, I was to take out this money laundering mortician. I was shipped over in a coffin rather than a body bag. The other time…well, I guess you could say I was outsmarted."

_"Stupid gun." I snarled at the jammed metal piece of machinery in my hand. I had snatched the Mini-Uzi off a guard after I had run out of bullets in my favorite pistols. All I had left were throwing knives and my sniper rifle. Steady gunfire was pouring into the column I was hiding behind, and I wouldn't have any chance of survival until these idiots reloaded. My hair was pulled up into a ponytail, and a few tendrils had taken to sticking to my neck or hanging around my face while my bangs were swept casually out of my eyes. I was clothed in black spandex from head to toe—this material was the greatest when slipping in between lasers. The sudden silence that echoed through the Deem mansion alerted me that this was the chance I was waiting for. Taking my rifle from my shoulder, I came out of hiding and put a bullet into each of the eight guards blocking the way of Mortimer Deem's vault. Every shot was fatal, and I stepped over the slump of guards before entering the correct code into the keypad. It was his anniversary date. As soon as the silver door opened with a hiss, I entered with caution. The room was purely white, and the heel of my boots echoed with every step I took. I wasn't prepared for something resembling a swinging pendulum to crash into the side of my head, knocking me off my feet and sending me into an unconscious state._

_An irritating beeping noise kept sounding to the right of my head…enough that I actually punched it as I came too. As my vision cleared, I realized I was enveloped mostly in darkness. Looking over, I saw an electronic device with the number 34:49 displayed on it, and the forty-nine was counting down rapidly. It didn't take me long to figure out I was in a coffin…six feet under the ground. The device to my right was a clock, counting down how much time I had left until I ran out of oxygen. "Fuck." I groaned as I felt around the coffin. I had been stripped of my weapons, but I still remained clothed. "Wooden coffin." I noted as I got a splinter after rubbing the side. _Should have gotten a little more sophisticated and buried me alive in a coffin that I couldn't break out of_, I thought to myself as I began to punch the wood in front of my face relentlessly. I could hear it breaking with each punch, and soon enough, dirt was pouring in on me. I had taken a deep breath beforehand, and slowly began to push my way through the dirt. It felt like hours before my hands finally popped through my surface, and I was able to pull myself out as I gasped for breath. I was buried a little ways off the mansion from what I could see—_yet another moronic move_, I thought as I began to walk down the road. The dried blood on my forehead was now mixed with dirt, but I managed to wipe some off with my shirt's sleeve (_after I brushed the dirt off of it_). _

"Did you kill the guy?" Jensen must have been listening to the story as we made our way out of the warehouse.

"Of course I did. I had a job to finish." I shrugged carelessly as Aisha tossed her credentials to the side.

_A Few Hours Later…_

I watched from the grass as Jensen talked into his walkie-talkie. Roque and Jensen were laying on the road, pretending to be in an "accident". Aisha had gotten her hands on army uniforms, and a humvee to make the scene look even more realistic. It wasn't long before an army helicopter was flying in, landing only a little ways off of Jensen and Roque. As soon as Cougar and I got the go, we both shot tranquilizer darts into the medics by Jensen and Roque. As soon as the two in the helicopter got out, Pooch shot them both tranquilizers. "You just got chopper-jacked, fellas." Pooch laughed, and in turn, I chuckled. _Successful day of bird hunting_. I thought as Cougar wrapped an arm around my waist.

* * *

**Sorry it was short, guys. I do hope you all enjoyed it. Review, please.**


	13. Helicopter

**An Assassin's Love**

**Summary**: Set during the movie (after 'The Losers' are presumed dead and when they are living in Bolivia). Carlos 'Cougar' Alvarez becomes '_acquianted_' with a bar owner who isn't who she says she is.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own The Losers or anything having to do with it. I own my made-up characters though - I don't own their face / body if I use someone else to portray them, of course.  
(_Calista Castillo_ is portrayed by Adriana Lima)

**Author's Note**: Chapter thirteen! Another update. Sorry that there hasn't been one in about a week. I've been getting so many different ideas, and I'm very forgetful (_short term memory_), so I have to put them all down. Anyways, there's a new story that has an undecided pairing for the Losers I want to finish and put up to get your opinions. The idea is different, and I haven't seen anything like it. So I'm glad I thought it up, haha.

* * *

**XIII. **Helicopter

_**S**_praypainting wasn't one of my favorite activities, but I was probably the last person to _ever _complain. About anything. I was watching Cougar out of the corner of my eye as he continued laying down layers of dark paint close to the back of the helicopter. I was closer to the front, but I could barely keep my eyes off of hi. He was wearing a thin, white beater that showed off the ripple of his muscles every time he moved, and jeans that hung low on his hips. I, on the other hand, was wearing one of Jensen's short-sleeved, brightly colored t-shirts that was snug at my chest and a pair of gym shorts the belonged to Jensen as well. After all this time, I looked at him as a younger brother, and he had told me that he looked at me as his _other _older sister. Speaking of Jensen, he had just entered the room, and I could see him motioning to Aisha after getting Cougar's attention. _Really? Kid's going to make a move on her. _I thought to myself with an eye roll. "_Idiota_." I growled out in Spanish, and I assumed Cougar had heard me when the rumble of his laughter escaped his throat. A little while after Jensen was shut down by Aisha, in a rather _hilarious _manner might I add, we had all gathered in another spacious room. Cougar and I were looking over the Clay's plans while Pooch and Roque were talking about something pertaining to the upcoming mission. I was about to ask if it was alright if I went to rest, since tomorrow was going to be a _big _deal, but Roque had questioned Aisha about Max.

"What do you want with Max?" _Why can't he just be content with getting revenge_. I thought to myself as I watched him eye Aisha. I wasn't the type of person to ask many questions, but that's probably because that's what I was taught at The Organization. After going back-and-forth for a few seconds, Roque was threatening to kill Aisha. Before Clay could step in, _I _did. I put myself in front of Aisha, so the gun was pointing in between my eyes (_since I was a couple of inches taller than Aisha_).

"_Don't_." I hadn't expected that one word to come out with so much venom. I narrowed my eyes, and my teeth clenched together involuntarily. If I had to break his hand to keep him in line, _I wouldn't hesitate_. Roque was my least favorite person in the room—I hated him, he hated me. It was simple.

"Roque." Clay's voice pierced through my thoughts, and I didn't look over at him. I could hear the warning in his tone, and I knew his expression matched. I could sense Cougar was uneasy, and he was watching Roque and I carefully. I'm more than sure a shocked Aisha was behind me, gaping at the fact I had stood up for her when I don't even know her that well.

"Alright, Castillo. You win." Roque hadn't called me by my real name ever since _The Losers_ found out, and I doubted he ever will. He lowered his gun, and walked off, obviously pissed.

"You're welcome." I glanced over my shoulder at Aisha warily, and took in her features. She was grateful, but I could tell she didn't appreciate me stepping in when she could've handled it herself.

"Thank you." She muttered rather quietly before stalking off in the opposite direction of Roque. It was then that I made my way back to the helicopter to finish spraypainting it. With the previous drama, I wouldn't be able to get to sleep until _everybody _else was asleep (_it was just a habit, watching out for those who watched out for me—even Roque, although he didn't really look out for me_). Before I could put my mask back on, Cougar had wound his arms around my waist and buried his hat-covered head in the crook of my neck. How he managed to keep his hat on through this action, I didn't know.

"That was…_stupid_." I laughed at Cougar's words. He was right, but I felt like it was necessary to stick up for Aisha. She hadn't done anything wrong, _yet_.

* * *

**Sorry that it was short, guys. I had planned on making it a long one, but obviously, that didn't happen. I'll just have to make the next one long :D Hope you all enjoyed. Review, please.**


	14. A Supposed Kidnapping

**An Assassin's Love**

**Summary**: Set during the movie (after 'The Losers' are presumed dead and when they are living in Bolivia). Carlos 'Cougar' Alvarez becomes '_acquainted_' with a bar owner who isn't who she says she is.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own The Losers or anything having to do with it. I own my made-up characters though - I don't own their face / body if I use someone else to portray them, of course.  
(_Calista Castillo_ is portrayed by Adriana Lima)

**Author's Note**: Chapter fourteen! Another update. Sorry that there hasn't been one in about a week. I've been getting so many different ideas, and I'm very forgetful (_short term memory_), so I have to put them all down. Anyways, there's a new story that has an undecided pairing for the Losers I want to finish and put up to get your opinions. The idea is different, and I haven't seen anything like it. So I'm glad I thought it up, haha.

* * *

**XIV. **A Supposed Kidnapping

"_**A**__re you in position?_" Clay's voice came through the small, barely noticeable bud in my right ear.

"Yes, sir." I responded as I casually skimmed the articles in the newspaper. I had done something _similar _to this before, so I knew how to make it look like I was reading when I was actually keeping an eye on all my surroundings.

"_How many times do I have to tell you—you don't have to call me sir_." Clay laughed lightly, and I mentally rolled my eyes while I smirked. I wouldn't exactly look sane—reading a newspaper, smirking, and rolling my eyes, so I limited myself to only two. "_What about you Jensen?_" I could see Clay from where I was sitting—in a _bright _yellow, Ford Pinto across the street. I found it rather entertaining, and the jokes I heard Roque cracking on it made me chuckle (_though I made sure to do it quietly_). "_Cougar?_" Cougar was pretty silent on comm's anyway, so when Clay only heard a mumble of 'mhm' on the other end, that was good enough for him. I had folded the newspaper back up, sat it beside me, and crossed my leg over the other, prepared to watch the show. "_Fire when ready_." The order was directed at Cougar, and only a minute later, the black SUV leading the armored car flipped. The armored car came to a halt, and everybody in the other SUV piled out of the quickly.

"Defend the package!" I heard a middle-aged man yell; he was the only one out of the bunch wearing casual, street clothes.

"Man. Late forties'. Wearing a button-up. Looks pretty suspicious too me." I said, but it seemed that what I said had been muffled due to all of the shooting going on. I saw Pooch in the distance, and I couldn't help but admire how _perfect _the helicopter actually matched that of the Miami PD. Roque blew up the other SUV using a detonator, and Jensen sealed the back doors of the armored car. I was shocked that the men were shooting at the helicopter, but I figured it could be explained later. Pooch lifted the armored car into the air, and I headed over to the Pinto at the same time as Jensen. The men looked defeated as Pooch flew off, though I noticed he grazed the top of a doughnut for a Dunkin' Donuts advertisement. Clay asked if everything was alright, and Pooch had said it was. Now, fitting three people in the backseat of a Pinto had to be the most uncomfortable experience in my life. My legs were too long for this, as were Cougar's and Jensen's. Cougar's sniper rifle kept sticking me in the back, and Jensen wouldn't stop squirming around. "Jensen, if you move one more time—" Before I could finish my sentence threatening his life, Cougar had his hand on my upper thigh. We hadn't been _too_ intimate for the past few days, preparing for this big job. So not only was this a shock, but it was nice. I relaxed against the back of the seat, and was no longer bothered by Jensen as Cougar mechanically rubbed circles on the inner part of my thigh. We were back at the warehouse in no time, and I was pleased to see the armored car in the center of the run-down building. _When I get my hands on that jerkoff_. I thought to myself as the adrenaline in my veins began pumping rapidly.

"Open the valves." Clay instructed, and Aisha did after she hooked the gas up correctly. Gasoline constantly poured into the truck, where we could all hear the coughing of the men in the back. "Unseal it." Clay said, and Jensen did just that before moving away. Clay and I were the only ones standing in front of the truck when the armed men jumped out the back, gas dripping from the clothes.

"Get down on the ground, fucker." The leader growled out, momentarily eyeing me before his eyes flickered back to Clay's. Clay was holding a lighter with a smile, flicking it open and closed.

"I don't think so. Gas, muzzle flash, hmmm…" Clay trailed off, and the leader motioned for his team to put their weapons down. They did as they were told, and the four others shot them all with tranquilizers, leaving the leader awake. "Where's Max?" Clay demanded in a serious tone.

"Uh, _who's Max_?" The man asked, obviously confused. He was shot with a tranquilizer as Jensen and Cougar got the valuable object from the armored car. Aisha's gun was taken, and she held her hands up defensively as Roque kept his gun trained on her.

"It's a hard drive." Jensen said, and confusion laced his voice as he held the silver hard drive up for all of us to see.

* * *

"_**I**_ didn't take you for a two-timing, backstabbing bitch. I guess I was wrong." I said, taking my eyes off Aisha with a careless shrug as we all waited to see what Jensen had to report about the hard drive.

"I didn't two-time or backstab anybody." Aisha snapped, her eyes narrowed.

"I made a mistake saving your life the first time," I growled out before adding, "I'm not doing it again." I got up as Jensen heaved a large sigh.

"It's not happening. I'm locked out. I can't crack the encryption on this. What you're looking at is a cool paper weight." Jensen said, offering a weak smile.

"Kill her. Burn everything." Clay instructed, and I thought I heard Roque mumble '_with pleasure_', but my ears could have deceived me. I was walking off as Aisha began screaming to Clay about the hard drive. Eventually, he had stopped and began taking in her words. From what I heard, she did have a point.

"Don't tell me you're considering this, Clay." Roque barked, obviously angry that he didn't get to kill Aisha already. Jensen mentioned something about the algorithm on the mainframe, and it was a little while after that that Roque blamed everything on Clay. That was when Clay punched Roque with all his might. I stepped in an instant, pulling back Clay while Pooch calmed Roque.

"For a woman, you're pretty strong." Clay complimented mindlessly, offering me a small smile. I returned it before Clay said, "Cut her loose."

* * *

"_**T**_hat's just great." I laughed out loud. I watched Aisha from the window (_it belonged to the small room Cougar and I were staying in_) as she climbed the stairs to where Clay was staying with a bottle of liquor. "They're going to get it on. I can see it already." I added as Clay allowed Aisha in. It was then that Cougar wrapped his arms around my waist and began to kiss my bare, scarred shoulder (_I was wearing a tank top_).

"Maybe we should do the same." He said in his deeply accented voice; I turned around his grip and pulled him into a passionate kiss.

"In the shower." I quirked a brow, and Cougar smirked approvingly as I walked backwards towards the bathroom. I pulled my shirt off in one swift motion and tossed it at him, successfully hitting him in the face. He followed me into the bathroom, lifting me up onto the bathroom's counter. He sat his hat to the left of the sink, and his shirt ended up on the floor somewhere. He pulled me back into a kiss, and his tongue ran across my bottom lip. As I ran my hands down his chest to his belt buckle, he did the same to my back (_but his hands met my bra clasp_). His jeans hit the floor the same time my bra did. He unbuttoned my jean shorts, and he lifted me off the counter long enough to yank them off. He kept one hand on my thigh, and the other in my hair. My hands seemed to have minds of their own as one dipped below the waistband of Cougar's boxers while the other wound itself in his hair. His tongue searched every square inch of my mouth as I stroked his manhood. Just when I thought he was about to blow my load, he had picked me up and slammed (_not too soft, not too hard_) into the closest wall. I let my feet touch the ground, and Cougar pulled back; I watched his eyes that were clouded with lust and desire become confused. "We said we were getting in the shower, weren't we?" At this, he grinned, and did the honor of taking off my last article of clothing while I did the same for him. I turned the shower on to lukewarm, and we kissed while we waited for the shower to heat up. Once it had, we both climbed in, taking in the relaxing moments before Cougar captured my mouth with his. _I'm going to be sore tomorrow_. I thought as he pushed me up against the wall. With one of my legs wrapped around his waist, he lifted the other up onto my shoulder before slowly delving into me. I moaned loudly at the friction, and Cougar peppered kisses all along my collarbone as he began to sped his pace up. I had orgasmed three times by the time he finally climaxed and let me down on my feet. I noted the light bruises on my hips that Cougar would be disappointed in himself for, but I didn't mind _at all_.

* * *

**Another update! Whoo hoo hoo, I'm on a roll. Haha. A lot longer than my last ones have been, so I hope you all enjoyed it. Review please!**


	15. Quick Mission

**An Assassin's Love**

**Summary**: Set during the movie (after 'The Losers' are presumed dead and when they are living in Bolivia). Carlos 'Cougar' Alvarez becomes '_acquainted_' with a bar owner who isn't who she says she is.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own The Losers or anything having to do with it. I own my made-up characters though - I don't own their face / body if I use someone else to portray them, of course.  
(_Calista Castillo_ is portrayed by Adriana Lima)

**Author's Note**: If anybody likes wrestling, I've got a couple of fanfics up for it, feel free to check them out. Review, please!

* * *

**XV. **Quick Mission

"_**R**_eally? I told you." I slapped Cougar's shoulder playfully as Aisha and Clay climbed into the van at the same time.

"That's just _great_." Roque sighed from the backseat as he looked out the window.

"Alright, look. We're not going anywhere until you two squash this bullshit." Pooch said as he looked back at Clay and Roque; I had laughed lowly at his words, and the way he said them.

"Pooch, we're on a schedule here. Let's go." Clay demanded, his eyes hard.

"Oh, 'we're on a schedule?'" Pooch imitated Clay before he yanked the keys out of the ignition and looked pointedly at Clay and Roque.

"Roque…I'm sorry I hit you in the face." Clay sighed, and I could've sworn he rolled his eyes.

"Oh. That was good. Roque? **Roque**?" Pooch had been laughing, but he had to raise his voice to get Roque to pay attention to him. Roque being the stubborn bastard that he is.

"Clay…I'm sorry I threatened to cut your head off." Roque's apology wasn't sincere, but I don't think that it mattered to Pooch.

"_Very _good! Wow. Don't you two feel so much better?" Pooch asked, looking from Clay to Roque.

"**No**." Clay and Roque said in unison which caused Aisha to chuckle softly.

"Well, I don't give a shit. I say we go watch Jensen get himself killed," He nudged my arm before doing a handshake with Cougar (_in case you were wondering, I was seated in Cougar's lap_).

* * *

"_**J**_ensen, you seriously have problems." I was trying to subdue my laughter by holding a hand over my mouth, but it wasn't working out too well. I could hear Jensen singing as he entered Goliath's building, and I wasn't surprised that he managed to get an elevator alone.

"_Why thank you, Cal. That is such a compliment coming from you._" While that might've sounded offensive, it was harmless in my eyes. Jensen and I reached a certain level of understanding, and while some of the jokes we exchanged were harsh, they didn't bother us. Only Cougar and Jensen were really a part of this mission—Jensen was going in while Cougar was providing '_back-up_'; I was just sitting in the van with Pooch, Clay, Roque and Aisha. I had one of my Kimber Customs sitting in my lap, and I flicked the safety off then on (_repeating the process over and over again_).

"You gonna stop doing that?" Roque snapped from the backseat, and I turned around, keeping my eyes trained on his as I continued the actions I had been doing that had annoyed him.

"Really, _bitch_?" Roque had attempted to hurl himself forward, but he was stopped when Aisha and Clay forced him back. I only smiled as I put the safety on before putting the gun in waistband of my pants. My head was lying against the headrest when some action began; I could hear Jensen telling the guards people did some anal stuff on him, and I cracked up. I had been laughing so hard for so long, I didn't even know what else happened. All I knew was when Jensen was climbing in the backseat beside Roque, and Cougar was opening the door to slide in with me.

* * *

**Probably the shortest chapter I've ever made. I'm just trying to get these non-exciting parts over with so we can get to the good parts! Haha.**


	16. Getting Out

**An Assassin's Love**

**Summary**: Set during the movie (after 'The Losers' are presumed dead and when they are living in Bolivia). Carlos 'Cougar' Alvarez becomes '_acquainted_' with a bar owner who isn't who she says she is.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own The Losers or anything having to do with it. I own my made-up characters though - I don't own their face / body if I use someone else to portray them, of course.  
(_Calista Castillo_ is portrayed by Adriana Lima)

**Author's Note**: So, this chapter has combined the the final parts of the movie (: Anyways, the next chapter takes place after the movie (: Anyways, I know where I'm going to stop on this story; twenty chapters total, but I've got a sequel in mind (:

* * *

**XVI. **Getting Out

_**I **_watched Jensen check up on his niece's soccer team while Pooch was checking out how his wife was doing via laptop. Cougar was cleaning his guns, and I was simply leaning against the wall, a drink in my hand. Tomorrow was going to be a tough day, and I would be going to sleep soon since we'd be getting our shit together at six in the morning. Los Angeles. I never thought I would be here again, but _shit happens_. As soon as Roque walked up the stairs, Jensen clicked out of his browser and claimed, "I was just trying to connect Fadhil's drug operation with Max's cash." He glanced over his shoulder before adding, "There's about four million missing. I'm trying to track it down."

"What are you doing, Pooch?" Roque asked as he took a sip of his drink.

"Jensen hacked a satellite for me earlier." Pooch sighed with a small smile.

"What you need a satellite for?" Roque questioned with puzzlement. Instead of answering, Pooch turned the laptop around for Roque o see. "Wait a second, is that today?" He cocked a brow as the screen showed Jolene holding onto her pregnant stomach outside of a supermarket.

"Yeah." Pooch chuckled, a grin on his lips. "Probably knows if it's a boy or a girl now." He added, and I could sense his uneasiness. He just wanted to be there for his wife and soon-to-be child.

"Congratulations, man." Roque replied.

"Congratulations." Pooch repeated as he took his glasses off. "Thank you, man." He ran a hand over his face wearily. "Say that now, but you know Jolene." He pointed a finger at Roque momentarily before continuing, "She finds out I'm alive, she's gonna kill me."

"She won't, Pooch." I mumbled as I took in his expression; he looked disappointed in himself.

"I can't let her have that baby without me." He stated firmly, his eyes flickering from mine to Roque. Roque and I both stared at him, and he finally asked, "What?"

"Pooch, we all know we're gonna die in there." Roque said bluntly, he fingered his cup as he looked at me then back at Pooch. _I _didn't plan on dying in there, or letting these men die in there—if I had to die to save them all, I would. Cougar finally looked up from cleaning his gun, his jaw hardened as he looked over all of our faces. "And we can do that without you." Roque finally concluded, sincerity laced his voice. _Which _was the first time I've ever heard the man be genuine.

"No, you can't." Pooch barely spoke above a whisper.

"Go home." Roque sighed, and I nodded my head in agreement.

"Got it." Jensen's spoke, breaking up the moment. I walked over and sat my drink down as he spoke, "Fadhil's four million didn't disappear. It just went into a private account."

"Whose account?" Pooch asked as he got off the counter, wiping his mouth.

"It's a family trust. Says that in the event of his death, goes to his kid. Name of…" He trailed off as he pulled it up.

"Shit." Pooch cursed, and I felt my mouth drop as I read the name. _And to think I stuck up for her_.

"Son of a bitch." I growled as we all began to take off for Clay's room, knowing that's where _she _would be. "I apologize for not letting you kill her, Roque." I hissed as we practically kicked down Clay's door.

"She's Fadhil's daughter!" Jensen and Pooch both said in unison as we held our guns up, pointed. She had a gun trained on Jensen, and one on Clay.

"She's Fadhil's daughter." Jensen repeated before cursing, "Oh, shit." He stuck his hands in the air, and I noticed that he didn't have his gun. "She's got a gun, and it's pointed at my dick. Clay, it's pointed at my dick."

"Rather it was pointed at your face?" Pooch asked.

"I know it makes no sense, but yes." I had the urge to shake my head at Jensen's response, but keeping my gun aimed at Aisha was my main concern. Hearing what Jensen said, Aisha moved her gun up so it was pointed at his face.

"Better?" Pooch said, but he kept his eyes forward on Aisha.

"Not really." Jensen replied, his hands still up.

"Where's your gun, Jensen?" Pooch questioned calmly.

"In the van." Jensen sighed.

"What's it doing there?" Pooch barked.

"Not much." The conversation going on was no bother to me now, my only priority was my gun pointed at Aisha. After bickering for a few seconds, Aisha shot Jensen in the arm. While the rest of the team was distracted by Aisha shooting the mirror in the ceiling and Jensen's gunshot wound, I shot at Aisha, and knew I shot her somewhere by the yelp the escaped her mouth before she slammed the bathroom's door. I knelt down beside Jensen as the men continued shooting at the bathroom. I knew it was useless—if she was smart, she would've climbed out of the small window in the bathroom.

"Jensen, it's a flesh wound, you'll be fine." I sighed as Cougar and I helped him up. There were sirens wailing in the distance, so we had to get out of here now.

* * *

_**R**_oque broke into the general store first before letting the five of us in. Cougar set to stitching Jensen's arm up while I sat nearby, my head resting in my hands. "She burned us." Pooch finally spoke; it was the first time anybody had talked since we were shooting at Aisha. "The whole op's blown." We sat quietly as Pooch continued, "She knows our names, faces. Does she know about our families?" I could tell Pooch was hesitant to ask the last question.

"Well, I don't have any family, so lucky me." I muttered harshly, my eyes focused on the floor. Aisha _couldn't _go after The Organization; she wouldn't be able to find them, and even if she managed to, they would tear her to pieces.

"Damn it, Clay, look at me." Pooch had ignored my comment as he stared at Clay, whose head was down. Clay looked up, and Pooch repeated his last question, "Does she know about our families?"

"Yes." Clay answered shortly; the room became even more tense.

"I gotta go home, to Springfield. Jensen can come with me. His niece is in New Hampshire. I'm done." Pooch sighed with a shake of his head; I understood him, to say the least.

Roque pushed off the counter and said, "Well, I'm going to the point, okay?"

He looked at Clay, and after a few moments of silence, Clay spoke, "You get back to your families. We'll get Max. I did this. I made the call in Bolivia. I put your families in danger." Well, he wasn't talking about me there.

"Just let me and Clay finish this." Roque stated, his eyes flashing over everyone.

"You mean, let _me_, you, and Clay finish this." I said as I took two steps towards them so I was standing beside Roque.

"So you three idiots are going to go in there blind?" Pooch questioned, leaning forward on the counter. The three of us didn't speak, only looked at each other.

"Four." Cougar spoke as he pulled out his gun.

"Hey, getting shot's great. I'm up for doing it again." Jensen sighed with a barely noticeable smirk. Of course, he would be sarcastic at a time like this.

"Five idiots." Roque grinned slightly as Pooch was obviously debating whether or not to go.

"You sons of bitches." Pooch chuckled humorlessly. "I'll drive." He sighed, and Clay nodded.

"Six." Clay said before we all began to head out.

* * *

_**I **_ran alongside Cougar as we got into the perimeter, he went one way while I went the other. I was climbing up the crates, my sniper rifle was dead weight on my shoulder and back—but that was the least of my concerns. I got to my place and set-up my rifle on the edge, keeping an eye on Clay and Roque who drove a black van to a building. Jensen let Roque and Clay in before going into two buildings over. I kept my scope trained on the building Clay and Roque were in, waiting for Clay's call. "Wade's here." Pooch's voice came over the walkie-talkie before adding, "Last chance to get the hell out of Dodge." I shook my head before brushing some of my hair that fell loose behind my ear. After a few minutes of dead silence, I heard heavy footsteps behind me, and when I looked over my shoulder, at least ten guys had their guns aimed at me.

"Well, shit." I groaned as I put my hands up. One of the ten men took my rifle, before another put chloroform to my mouth. _Figures they'd want me unconscious_. I thought to myself before I passed out.

* * *

_**G**_radually, I awoke, and was greeted by dim light. The room I was concealed in was small, and looked like it was made of steel. I realized I was _chained _to a metal chair, with unnecessary tightness, might I add. _Who the fuck burned us? _I thought to myself as I shook my head slightly.

"Ah, you're awake." I looked up at the guard who spoke to me; it was the man that I described when we were in Miami. "I'm Wade, and you're the legendary assassin from The Organization. Everybody thought you were dead." He grinned as he crossed his arms over his chest. "The boss wants a word with you." He added before he stood in front of me. He bent down to my level and held my chin in his hand. "You're a lot prettier than I thought you would be." He went to move in for a kiss, but was held back by a firm hand. _Max_.

"_You_." I gritted out; I hadn't forgotten that _he _was the one who called the hit on my father.

"Why, hello Calista." Max smiled as he leaned against the table nearby. Wade left the room, but made sure to send me a wolfish smirk before he did.

"_You _ordered the hit on my father, you worthless piece of shit." I began to writhe around in the chair wildly, hoping to free myself of the chains so I could teach this fucker a lesson.

"It's no use, dear. However, if you were willing to be on—"

"I would _never _do anything willing for you, motherfucker." I snarled angrily.

"Well, in that case…" He trailed off as he backhanded me. I laughed before spitting the blood out. After several blows delivered to my face, he called in some guards to beat the living hell out of me. I guess he forgot how I endured pain, and after every strike delivered by every guard, I laughed.

* * *

_**W**_hen I was hauled outside by my torn shirt, I squinted against the sun. Without seeing my face and body, I knew the damage that was there; one black eye swollen shut, both lips busted, a cut above my left eyebrow, two broken fingers on my left hand, a dislocated shoulder, a fractured wrist, and four broken ribs. By the way they had been going at it, I was surprised they didn't shatter anything. The metal collar around my neck was thick and heavy, and it was connected to the metal clasps around my wrists by a chain; the clasps were connected to the shackles around my feet by a chain as well. Ten guards surrounded me again, and one was steadily pushing me from behind. When we began walking with Cougar, Jensen, Pooch, and more guards, Cougar swore up a storm in Spanish when he saw me. I simply smiled before spitting out some excess blood, "Don't worry about me." We saw Clay as we continued on our last walk, and he mouthed one word to us that answered our questions. _Roque_. I shook my head as we were asked to stand in front of a crate, and side-by-side we did.

"Get on your knees." One of the guards ordered, but none of us complied. Cougar, Jensen, and I were kicked in the back of the knees, so we were forced to go down. Pooch remained defiantly standing, his expression blank. When he refused to get on his knees, the guard shot him in both of them, making him go down.

"You know, I never had my way with you like I wanted." One of the guards whispered in my ear. _Too close for comfort_. I thought to myself with a smirk as I rammed my head back with all my might. The head butt resulted in that asshole having a broken nose. "You dumb bitch!" He yelled as he kicked me to the ground. He delivered several kicks to my ribs, and with each kick, I had to wheeze due to my broken ribs. Everything else happened in a blur—Aisha showed up and shot a grenade launcher before the guards had a chance to shoot us all. I was incapable of standing with these shaking, and they weren't coming off because none of the guards had the right key.

"Fuck me." I growled out as I hobbled over to the crate and leaned against it. I could slip my hands out of the clasps, especially the hurt one.

"There's a lock on the collar in the back." Cougar said, his eyes trained on mine. I knew what he was talking about, and I nodded as I held my hair out of the way. He was going to _shoot _it off. After the gunshot rang out, the lock fell to the ground, and I was able to pull the uncomfortable collar off. He ended up shooting the shackles off as well since they were locked like the collar, but the clasps weren't. I slipped my fractured wrist out of the clasp, and I was only able to do it because of the way it was fractured (_it made my wrist bend in an awkward manner_).

"Now, let's go kick some ass." I grinned as Cougar and Jensen helped Pooch to an opening in between two nearby crates. Clay met up with us before Aisha slipped in between the large crates, her gun aimed at Clay. After an exchange, we all got into the van to head to the docks. Once there, bullets rained through the van, so we had to wait until they were reloading to hop out.

"I'm going to take care of Roque." Clay claimed before splitting up with us. I went with Jensen and Pooch, shooting whoever was in my line of sight. After thirty minutes of pure gun fighting, Clay had confronted Max while Jensen, Pooch, and I looked over the 'Easter egg' as Jensen put it. Clay managed to get the trigger, and duct tape it. A canary yellow stretch Hummer was our way of transportation out of here, and I snuggled up to Cougar as we headed out.

* * *

**I know the ending was short, but it got through those parts. Anyway, I hope you guys liked it. The next chapter will be up soon.**


	17. The Aftermath

**An Assassin's Love**

**Summary**: Set during the movie (after 'The Losers' are presumed dead and when they are living in Bolivia). Carlos 'Cougar' Alvarez becomes '_acquainted_' with a bar owner who isn't who she says she is.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own The Losers or anything having to do with it. I own my made-up characters though - I don't own their face / body if I use someone else to portray them, of course.  
(_Calista Castillo_ is portrayed by Adriana Lima)

**Author's Note**: I'm continuing! Now, here's the next chapter (: And to **_azuresilver_**, Calista was able to move and shoot due to her training; she was trained to tolerate and resist the pain. I know I make her sound kind of superhuman, but she isn't, haha.

* * *

**XVII. **The Aftermath

**_I_**t had been three weeks since the Los Angeles incident. We all headed up to Conneticut first so Pooch could be there in time when Jolene went into labor, and then we went to Jensen's niece's soccer game. We were on a 'miniature vacation', as Clay called it. We went back to 'work' tomorrow, and what better place to do it than where Max was last? We were heading back to Los Angeles; we were going back to the docks and going over everything, to see if we could have missed anything. Any cuts I had healed, my black eye went down, and the bruises that littered my body were tinted a light yellow. My ribs on the other hand, still 'hurt', if I could _really _even say that—but I figured they were healed for the most part. Normal healing time would be six to eight weeks, but pain didn't bother me so much so I considered that they were healed at this point. "I still don't think you should all leave." Julie Jensen grinned softly as she put plates of food in front of us. Pooch, Jolene, and their baby boy, Sam, moved to New Hampshire about a week ago so seeing families wouldn't be so complicated—we would all always be near each other.

"We have to, J." Jensen said simply, glancing at his older sister before he began eating. The meal was good, and now we were all sitting on the patio, drinking beer…except for Jensen. He was letting his niece, Jamie, 'teach' him how to play soccer. It was actually entertaining to watch. Jensen was falling over purposely, and on the few times it was pure accident, I didn't think I was going to be able to control my laughter.

"I wonder if we'll find a lead in Los Angeles." Aisha stated, looking up from her beer bottle momentarily.

I shrugged before adding, "I look forward to killing Max, but I hate that we're going back there." It was true, I _did _hate that we were going back. The Organization was still based there as far as I was concerned, and I was risking any member seeing me. New members included since Bishop could have told them about me—not that I knew for sure. Clay nodded in understanding, and Cougar's grip around my waist tightened slightly. He was _too _careful when touching me, _anywhere_, ever since the incident. This was probably the first time he actually allowed me to sit in his lap.

"Cali, you want to show Jamie some sick moves?" _Of course Jensen would ask me of all people_. I thought to myself as I sat the Corona on the table. Cougar didn't release me, and I looked over my shoulder at him with a reassuring grin. Slowly, he let me go, and I heaved myself over to where Jensen and his niece were at.

"I haven't played this since I was a kid." I smiled slightly; when I had been Jamie's age and everything was _okay_, I _had _been the star soccer player on a team in Brazil. That was about twenty years ago, though. Soon to be twenty-one after my birthday that was coming up in a few weeks.

"Well, show me what you got, Aunt C." Jamie said as she pulled her hair up with a smirk; the little girl was a firecracker, and had been calling me her Aunt ever since Jensen introduced us…but she pretty much addressed us all that way—Uncle C, Uncle P, Uncle J, Uncle Coug, and Aunt A.

"All right, then." I said as I began kicking the soccer ball down the length of their backyard. About halfway down, Jensen and Jamie trying to keep up with me, Jensen tried to get the ball from me. I dodged his move and balanced myself on the ball, spinning one-hundred and sixty degrees on it before kicking it as hard as I could towards the woods. It hit a tree, ricocheted back, and I caught it with a smirk.

"Wow. Can you teach me to do that?" Jamie was in awe, and I simply nodded yes. After an hour of showing Jamie some great maneuvers, I decided it was time to head in. Cougar and I had been kind enough to settle for the couch in the living room, since Clay and Aisha took the guest bedroom, and Pooch had his own home to go too. We sat on the couch for a while, our fingers laced.

"What were the people in The Organization like?" Cougar asked after thirty minutes of silence. I looked over at him briefly before sighing.

"I considered them family. Bishop assumed a fatherly figure, Star was like my older sister, and all the guys were like my brothers. That's why I left when Theo and Colby kept trying to kill me. We weren't supposed to care for anyone in The Organization, but it was kind of hard not too." I glanced over at Cougar again, and he was listening attentively.

"What was it like in there?" _That's a new one_. I thought to myself as I tried to figure out the best way to word it.

"You killed people. Simple as that. You could live there, or have your own place. Denying a hit would result in punishment. There was something we had to follow like The Ten Commandments. We weren't allowed to get attached to others, and stuff like that. If we didn't follow, punishment. Everybody knew better than to disobey your saviors." I leaned over and pressed my lips to his, but only for a moment before getting in the most comfortable sleeping position. "Good night." I mumbled before drifting off into a light slumber.

* * *

**There you go. Another chapter :D Anyways, there's going to be three more chapters after this. Then there will be a sequel, especially if you guys want one.**


	18. The Unexpected Return

**An Assassin's Love**

**Summary**: Set during the movie (after 'The Losers' are presumed dead and when they are living in Bolivia). Carlos 'Cougar' Alvarez becomes '_acquainted_' with a bar owner who isn't who she says she is.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own The Losers or anything having to do with it. I own my made-up characters though - I don't own their face / body if I use someone else to portray them, of course.  
(_Calista Castillo_ is portrayed by Adriana Lima)

**Author's Note**: I'm continuing! Now, here's the next chapter (: And to **_azuresilver_**, Calista was able to move and shoot due to her training; she was trained to tolerate and resist the pain. I know I make her sound kind of superhuman, but she isn't, haha.

* * *

**XVIII. **The Unexpected Return

**_B_**abysitting had to suck for _other _people, but I _enjoyed _it. Clay and the others had left for the docks, but I was staying behind with Jensen who wasn't needed for the job. He would be going through security cameras and whatnot from the past month to see if he could catch Max. "You got anything yet?" I yawned slightly as I plopped onto a small crate set up beside his desk.

"Well, there are a lot of blue-eyed, dark-haired men walking the streets of Los Angeles, it's kind of hard to pinpoint _one _in specific that _I've _never seen." Hearing his smart ass remark, I slapped him upside the head.

"_I _saw him. All you got to do is look for a guy wearing _one _glove with a bloody suit. In case you forgot, Clay shot him that day…so just look for it that evening." I rolled my eyes with a smirk.

"Why didn't I think of that?" Jensen mumbled as he began to type the keys of his laptop rapidly.

"You want anything to eat?" I asked after a few moments of silence. I could tell Jensen didn't want to be disturbed, but he hadn't eaten all day, and I was going to be his nagging 'other' sister if I had to be.

"Sure." He answered shortly, and I nodded before heading to the make-shift kitchen we had set up. We were staying in an abandoned warehouse while we were in Los Angeles, since we probably wouldn't be here long enough to waste our money on a hotel. After a few minutes of making something as simple as ramen noodles, I headed back with a bowl in my hand.

"Here." I sat it down beside him along with a fork, his preferred eating utensil. He ate absentmindedly with one hand while hitting the keys with his free one. Five minutes had passed until I saw _it_. "Shit." I growled out as I saw the red dot aimed at his chest. I lunged forward and successfully managed to push him to the ground, but not without feeling a bullet clip my shoulderblade. Another bullet hit the bowl Jensen was eating out of, and sent soup onto his laptop. "_Move_." I growled as I shoved Jensen towards the stairway that would lead to the roof. I grabbed my sniper rifle on the way, and took the lead. As soon as I pushed open the 'door' in the ceiling and popped most of my body out, a bullet grazed my forearm and lower back to the right. I shoved Jensen back down the stairs.

"Who the fuck is it?" Jensen practically shrieked; I knew he was distraught over the fact his laptop was _completely _ruined.

"Not The Organization. They're more skilled than that, and they wouldn't be trying to kill me." I stated as I held the sniper rifle up; just then one of the large, garage-like doors began opening up. "I think I know who's behind it." I hissed as two men came into view. "I didn't think I'd be seeing you bastards ever again." I spat as I instinctively pushed Jensen behind me.

"Well, we got a _tip_ from a friend of ours." Theo spoke smoothly as he stood beside Colby who was smirking.

"Let me guess—_Max_." I kept my gun trained on Theo; he would chance taking a step forward while Colby wouldn't.

"Yes, dear. Now why don't you introduce me to your friend? Or is he your _boyfriend_?" He was pissed, I _could _use it to my advantage, but it would simply put Jensen in more danger, and I was going to avoid that at all costs.

"_No_. I'm not introducing you, asshole." I said before Theo attempted to take two steps forward; I quickly rewarded him with a bullet through the foot. He simply exhaled with a shake of his head before stepping back to where he was.

"You haven't lost your touch, C." He grinned as he looked over at Colby. "We just wanted to visit to let you know that we _know _you're alive, and we'll stop at _nothing _to make sure you and your friends are dead. First, we're going to capture you all, then we're going to make you watch as we torture every _single _one of them. You'll all a slow, painful death, and you'll be the last to go, C." Theo said coldly before a smile lit up his face. "I _also _forgot to introduce you to a couple of my friends." As if on cue, a familiar man and a young girl came into my view. My grip loosened on the rifle momentarily, before it tightened as my jaw clenched.

"You _sold _me _out_? And you let me think I was the reason you died!" At this point, I was ready to drop the rifle and beat the _shit _out of the man that stood before me, an ashamed look on his face.

"I'm sorry, Elena—I mean Calista. They approached me and told me who you were…" Antonio Cortez trailed off, not knowing what else to say to me. A nine-year-old Gabriella Cortez stood beside him, her hand clasped in his.

"Hey, Elena." She smiled slightly with a wave. _Of course she'd still call me that_. I shook my head with a sigh. "Daddy said I'd see you again one day." The young child let go of her father's hand without warning and ran over, her arms winding around my waist. I balanced the butt of the sniper rifle on my shoulder, but kept one hand on the trigger so I could pat her back in response.

"Come on, Gaby. We have to go." Jensen must have gotten it all then, because he gasped as Gabriella marched back over to her father. They all exited, Theo smiling and Colby smirking, and they were followed by any of the soldiers they had with them. My sniper rifle hadn't moved an inch for the next ten minutes, and I finally lowered it with a growl.

"I assume that was Theo and Colby, those guys you told us about…" Jensen trailed off before adding, "And Antonio and Gabriella." I simply nodded in response; I couldn't form words at this point.

* * *

**Hopefully that was a twist you guys didn't see coming (: Review, please.**


	19. That Part of My Life is Over

**An Assassin's Love**

**Summary**: Set during the movie (after 'The Losers' are presumed dead and when they are living in Bolivia). Carlos 'Cougar' Alvarez becomes '_acquainted_' with a bar owner who isn't who she says she is.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own The Losers or anything having to do with it. I own my made-up characters though - I don't own their face / body if I use someone else to portray them, of course.  
(_Calista Castillo_ is portrayed by Adriana Lima)

**Author's Note**: Oh my god, I'm so sorry it's been forever since I updated! Hopefully, you all like it! There's only one more chapter after this, but I plan on making a sequel as long as you guys want it (:

* * *

**XIX. **That Part of My Life is Over

"_**W**_hat are you doing, Cali?" Jensen asked, obviously confused, as I continued gathering my stuff, along with everyone else's.

"I'm taking you to a safe place. I have unfinished business to attend to." I spoke through clenched teeth as I heard the familiar squeal of the stretch Hummer pull up outside. Moments later, laughter filled the room, only to be cut short.

"Jensen, what'd you say to her?" Pooch nudged Jensen in the ribs questioningly, and Jensen only shook his head as if to say 'it wasn't me'. That's when the crew must have seen my bullet wounds, because now they were hounding Jensen for answers—except for Cougar.

"_Mi amor_." Cougar whispered into my hair, and I only looked over my shoulder at him. I assumed Jensen hadn't told the other Losers anything in specific, because they all looked agitated.

"Some old friends of mine dropped by." I spat harshly as I marched outside, all my the bags with me and the team in tow.

"What are you talking about? Who?" Clay asked, frustrated at the lack of information he was given.

"Theo and Colby, turns out Antonio and Gabriella never died. They simply sold themselves out to spare their lives." I shook my head as I tossed the bags into the back of the Hummer. If I knew exactly what Theo and Colby told Antonio, it would mostly be false. They would be right in saying I killed many people, and that I was an assassin; but they would have left out that I retired, and that I wasn't dangerous to _everyone _among other things.

"So, where are we going?" Clay mused with an arched eyebrow.

"Just get in." I said coldly, sliding into the driver's side. The others got into the backseat, not wanting to test my angered nature. Nearly twenty five minutes later, after pure silence, I was pulling up in front of a place I never thought I'd come to again.

"What is this place?" Jensen asked as I led the five to the door. I didn't answer, only knocked on the door how I used to so it would open. When it did, I was greeted by a dimly lit foyer. The decorating had been updated since the last time I saw it, and I guessed it was Star's handiwork.

"Bishop!" I yelled as I got ready to enter the living room. As soon as I opened the door, I was greeted by several different faces that I recognized. Bishop was seated in a red plush chair, a cigar hanging out of his mouth, and he wore an expensive suit as always. Beck was seated with Star on the loveseat, and both were staring at me in shock. Archer and Keyes had been playing chess, but were now both gaping while Newt and Brody had turned away from the fireplace.

"_Bitch_!" Star screeched as she lunged off the loveseat. While I anticipated a punch, I was simply pummeled with a hug. "You let me think you were dead all this time." I could hear her voice crack halfway through her sentence, and I patted her longer hair with a smile. Now it reached her shoulders in curls, a pleasant change from the rebellious pixie cut I always saw her have.

"This is bollocks! I knew you didn't die!" Archer yelled with a grin as he leapt up from his seat to have his turn hugging me. Keyes, Brody, and Beck got up silently, and each of them took their time hugging me; I saw that Newt was doing a little dance out of the corner of my eye. I hugged him too, which only left Bishop. He was clapping, a hearty laugh rumbling from the depths of his throat.

"Bravo, Calista." I simply walked over to him and leaned down to hug him. "I knew you were alive this whole time." He added as he put his cigar out on the ashtray nearby.

"Figured you would." I smiled slightly as I realized my six teachers were having a staredown contest with the five in the doorway. "Calm down. These are my friends." I stepped in front of them with a smile. "Guys, this is Star, Archer, Keyes, Brody, Beck, and Newt." I pointed to everybody when necessary before adding, "This is Cougar, Clay, Aisha, Pooch, and Jensen." They all waved awkwardly before I said, "Now, if you don't mind, I need to go get ready to kick some ass." As I went to walk away, Cougar pulled me back with a questionable look. "You don't know what they said. I'm going to _kill _them before they kill you all." I pulled out of his grasp as my former teachers and Bishop followed me up the stairs to my old bedroom. I explained the current situation to them, and they all returned downstairs to keep a 'watch' on the Losers upon my request.

* * *

"**_A_**re you seriously going to go through with this? Without our help, I mean." Clay said when he heard me coming down the stairs. I didn't speak, just entered the room as I fiddled with a small piece of technology that closely resembled a Bluetooth headset.

"You'll be able to see everything going on, guys." I pointed to it, hitting a few keys on the number pad beside the plasma screen television. It displayed my current surroundings since they were now linked up. The Executioner had entered the room, his black hood covering his face as he handed a bag off to me. "Thanks." I mumbled as I skimmed through the weapons inside. Grenades, ammunition, and more filled it all the way up. My sniper was outside, along with my two Kimber Customs. I took the paper Bishop gave me to me, seeing the complete layout of the place Theo and Colby were holed up in. I looked back at Star who nodded knowingly, tossing me the keys to her car. "Still got the Barracuda?" I arched an eyebrow.

"Yeah." Star smiled before waving goodbye. I pressed one last kiss to Cougar's lips before completely leaving The Organization, getting into the green Barracuda parked far down the street. I was wearing my usual attire from my time in The Organization—a black, spandex, sleeveles top, black, spandex pants, and knee-high boots; my hair was pulled up into a loose ponytail. I tossed the weaponry into the passenger seat. It took less than twenty minutes to reach my destination, and I took the back entrance through a small window. I quietly crept around the halls, taking out any guard steathily. The place was so high-tech, yet they hadn't installed any security cameras. _Idiots_. I thought to myself as I took out a group of guards rather noisily. The alarms began to sound, and I had to take cover behind a wall as an army of men prepared to shoot me. _They're still idiots_. I thought as I skillfully shot them each in the head.

* * *

**_T_**he double doors in front of me were containing one of the two men I _had _to kill. I kicked the doors open without warning, seeing Theo sitting at the desk with a smirk. His hands were folding in his lap, and he appeared to be calm. "I've been expecting you." Theo sighed as he leaned back in his chair some.

"Of course you were." I snapped, taking off the headset to look into it. "You aren't even going to want to see what I do to him." I hissed before throwing the small piece of technology against the wall, and I assumed I destroyed it as I took a few long strides towards the desk. Without another word, I shot him in the arm—I hadn't expected a second gunshot to chime through the air and hit me through the back of my left thigh. Although I hadn't anticipated it, I looked over my shoulder to see Colby in the doorway with a smile.

"Hello, love." The Scottish man said as he strode into the room, coming to stand behind Theo loyally. I shifted all of my weight onto my other foot, and could feel the steady pouring of blood coming from the flesh wound. _At least it was through and through_. I thought to myself, glancing down to see the bullet stuck into Theo's wooden desk. How that I ever happened? I don't know.

"I'm going to make you two wish you never met me." I growled out, watching as Theo stood from behind the desk with a shrug.

"Let's do this _fair_. No guns or other weapons. Only hands." Theo waved his hands in front of him for emphasis. I was already half-screwed; I wouldn't be able to put any leverage into my left leg, so I wouldn't be able to do leg sweeps or any sort of kicks.

"If she's smart, she _won't _take the offer. She minds well go out easy way." Colby suggested as he pointed his gun at me, squinting as he turned it to the side.

"Fuck you both. The first thing I ever learned in life is to trust no one, so you've got to be shitting me if either of you actually believe I'd put my life in your hands." I said, my tone even for the first time for a couple of hours. With a sigh, Theo started to circle me.

"Y'know, it's all your fault how things are the way they are today. If you would've said three simple words to me all those years ago, everything would still be in order. I'd still be at The Organization, so would you, and the death of somebody innocent wouldn't be on your conscience." Theo said barely above a whisper, stopping when he was standing directly in front of me. _This isn't going to be good for the wound, but fuck it_. I thought to myself as I kicked Theo right below his knee with my good leg, causing him to drop to his knees as I shot Colby point blank in the forehead before he could even get in another shot. I shoved the tip of my gun into the wound on Theo's arm, getting down to his face level.

"I didn't say those three words, because I _didn't _love you, jackass. I never have loved you, and I never will. My heart belongs to another, and whether or not I die, he'll keep it forever." The moment the last word left my lips, I felt another gun wound pierce my stomach before my gun was knocked out of my hand.

"You _bitch_!" Theo yelled before we began to fight—I don't know how I managed to keep up with his flying fists as blood began to seep through my shirt and run down the length of my lower body. I suppose it was the pain resistance. I eventually got the upper hand after I grabbed the fist he was throwing the punch with and snapped his arm break, successfully breaking it in three different places. A headbutt sent him to the floor with a broken nose, and I grabbed the gun he used to shoot me with and shot him through his nether regions numerous times. Blood was leaking out of his lips as he laughed at my cruelty. "Fuck you, Calista Castillo. Fuck you and your—" A bullet in between his eyes was enough to shut him up.

* * *

**Finally an update! Hah, sorry it took so long everybody! Enjoy it? Review, please! Let me know if you guys want a sequel to this. There's only one chapter after this.  
By the way, check my profile for the updated picture of Star.**


	20. I Love You

**An Assassin's Love**

**Summary**: Set during the movie (after 'The Losers' are presumed dead and when they are living in Bolivia). Carlos 'Cougar' Alvarez becomes '_acquainted_' with a bar owner who isn't who she says she is.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own The Losers or anything having to do with it. I own my made-up characters though - I don't own their face / body if I use someone else to portray them, of course.  
(_Calista Castillo_ is portrayed by Adriana Lima)

**Author's Note**: Sorry it's been one hundred years over here since I updated. I will be posting the sequel soon. Thanks to all of my wonderful readers, I love you all and have appreciated your feedback! (:

* * *

**XX. **I Love You

**_T_**_alk about a killer headache_. I thought to myself as I slowly sat up in the bed I used to call mine. After stumbling through the door last night, I was patched up and given sleeping pills. I only noticed a small, dull, throbbing in my stomach and leg, but it was easy to tolerate. Soft breathing came from the other side of the bed, and I looked over to see Cougar sleeping peacefully. I smiled lightly, looking around my room. Bishop hadn't changed it at all since I retired and 'died'. Numerous pictures from different past times covered every square inch of a bulletin board by the vanity's mirror.

"Ah, _mi amor_, how are you feeling?" Cougar's heavily accented voice cut through the air, and I glanced over at him to see him wiping his eyes tiredly.

"Better than ever." I leaned over and placed a tender kiss that had meaning to it on his lips.

"Y'know, you lost a lot of blood. We didn't think you'd make it." Cougar mentioned as I got off the bed and walked into my wardrobe.

"None of you should have worried about me. It was something that needed to be done, and if I had…_died…_it would have been for the safety of you and the others." I sighed, running a hand through my hair lazily. I pondered over the clothing in front of me, but stopped thinking as I felt Cougar's arms lightly slither around my waist. He seemed to be acting too careful… "I'm fine, you know that, right?" I roleld my eyes as I turned around in his grasp.

He mumbled something along the lines of, "Yes." Before pressing a delicate kiss to my lips. I bit my lip…_hard _as soon as he pulled away. I could feel the intensity radiating off of him, and I knew he was going to say it. "_I love you._"

Those three simple words seemed to echo all around me, and I knew my mouth had fallen to the floor even though I had anticipated this happening.

"I love you too." The statement had flew out of my mouth before I could stop myself, but as soon as I had said it, I realized that it was true.

I, Calista Charmene Eloisa Blanca Castillo, was _in love _with Carlos Alvarez.

* * *

**Sorry it ended so abruptly. I will begin working on the sequel ASAP, please look out for it (: Hope you guys liked my mushy ending, haha.**


End file.
